


Together On Mars: Always In Motion

by StarlitSky



Series: Follow Me Back Home [5]
Category: Biker Mice From Mars
Genre: 90s Series, Drama, F/M, Family, Friendship, Part 3, Romance, Sequel, Unexpected Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-20
Updated: 2014-04-28
Packaged: 2018-01-16 09:45:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 81,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1342936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarlitSky/pseuds/StarlitSky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The kids are all grown up and about ready to start families of their own, but that doesn't mean there aren't any surprises left for their parents--especially when it comes to a certain tan mouse and his snow-skinned mate. Flash-forward followup to Follow Me Back Home, Together On Mars, and related tangents. Enjoy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Among the stars_  
_There is a place_  
_To where my heart_  
_Always returns_  
**~Home by Unsun**

"You're crazy."

"Nah, not crazy--quirky. And brilliant. It's genetic."

"You definitely inherited your dad's modesty."

"Brilliant, dashing, charming...and did I mention a babe-magnet?"

Huffing in irritation, Saber tossed down the comic book he'd been trying to read and sat up to glare at his best friend, who was currently lounging on his unmade bed with a bag of chips in his hand. "You're beyond crazy," Saber told him bluntly. "You're completely out of your mind if you think we can get away with stealing my dad's bike. If you got any nuttier, we could slice you into slivers and spread you on a cracker."

Vector merely cackled around a mouthful of chips before rolling onto his side, upsetting a pile of magazines with his bare foot as he propped his head on his palm and grinned meaningfully at him. "Not _me_ ," he corrected, " _you_. You get to steal the bike, and I get to do the rest."

"And the rest is...?"

"A birthday surprise, of course. Come on, bud, you're turning eighteen tomorrow. Are you going to celebrate like a badass or a wuss?"

"I'd rather celebrate in one piece. If the bike doesn't kill us, the owner will when he finds out."

But once Vector had hatched one of his schemes, there was never any stopping him. He'd been getting the two of them into trouble for as long as Saber could remember--because even though Vector was three years older than him, they had been a team since Saber was in diapers. And even though Vector got him into trouble all the time, he helped get him out of trouble almost as often, so it balanced out. Sort of.

Swiping his dad's monster of a bike was just another insane plot in a long line of insane plots, and even if he'd wanted to, Saber doubted he could pull it off. But he knew if he didn't cave--like he always did--Vector would badger him until he was ready to strangle himself with his own tail, so he fell back against the mound of beanbags on the floor with a melodramatic sigh. " _Fine_ , I'll try. But no promises."

"Good. When you've got it, meet me out by the dunes west of the ravine across from the north entrance."

"Whoa--you almost sounded like you knew what you were talking about for a second. Only there isn't any north entrance."

Grunting in annoyance, the white half-mouse sat up, noisily crushed his empty chip bag into a ball and pitched it into a corner. "Fine--from whatever direction the entrance you use when you show up from the north is. Like I'm supposed to know for sure."

The thought made Saber grin. A rodent that nutty finding out where any of the portals that led into his home city lie? Not in this lifetime.

With a lazy yawn, Saber stretched for a moment, reaching his arms back behind his head--and recoiled with a grimace as his fingers bumped a mound of dirty clothes, disturbing what smelled like ancient sweat and grime and a happily growing farm of bacteria. " _Ugh_ , when was the last time you cleaned in here?"

"Since I moved in? Never. Being an independent adult rules."

Vector paused, his expression lighting up. He quickly crawled forward and flopped onto his belly, making his scruffy white forelock bounce as he peered over the edge of the bed at him. "You're an adult now--you could move in," he said excitedly.

Actually, Saber was starting to question his choice to sit on the floor, and he brushed off the seat of his pants as he stood, his eyes drifting over the discarded food containers and mud-caked boots. At least, he sure hoped that was mud.

"I think I'll wait until this place has been tested for hepatitis. Or trichinosis."

Vector snickered at him. "Trichinosis comes from pigs, bud."

Saber's gaze drifted back to the pile of fragrant laundry. "I'm sure there's one in here somewhere."

His best friend rolled his eyes dramatically. "Stop, you're starting to sound like my mom."

"Hey, your mom is an angel for putting up with what a slob you've become. My mom's been giving my room military-grade inspections since I was five."

"All the more reason to make your escape," Vector noted, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and hopping to his feet in one fluid motion.

Saber had to admit, the thought of leaving home and rooming with his life-long buddy was appealing, but moving into an environment that was probably better handled with antiseptic gloves wouldn't be the only thing he'd have to adjust to.

He was still thinking it over when the front door suddenly buzzed, followed by a muffled pair of swishes as the door opened and closed, signaling that someone had let themselves in without bothering to wait for permission first. Saber could easily guess who had just showed up, and he grabbed his boots from where he'd kicked them off earlier and started tugging them on. "I better go."

For a brief second Vector looked disappointed, but he was grinning again a moment later. "You need to rest up for tomorrow--and especially for tomorrow night," he said slyly.

"Do I get a hint what this is about?"

"Nope."

Saber had figured as much. He gave his head a shake as he left the messy bedroom--and almost walked nose-first into Joy out in the hall. She stepped back out of the way so he could get by--stepped back normally. No hops of pretend surprise, no wide-eyed giggles and exclamations of things like 'fancy bumping into you here!'

As she moved to the side, folding her slender hands behind her back as she leaned against the wall, all she said was, "I didn't realize you were here until I saw your bike outside."

Once upon a time, this kind of remark would have had him rolling his eyes and saying 'suuuure you didn't,' but he was pretty sure she was telling the truth. These days, she didn't behave the way she used to, years ago. When they were kids, she had trailed after him like there was some kind of magic invisible thread tying them together; no matter where he went, she was almost always at his heels. When they got older she grew a little more subtle about following him around, but it still felt like every time he turned around she was hovering somewhere close by, like a second shadow.

That had changed once they both hit their teen years. Her interest in him suddenly seemed to wane and her focus shifted to other things, like hanging out with her friends and finishing her studies. Now, it appeared that the days of spunky little Joy chasing after him with daily threats that she was going to drag him to the altar were just a memory.

At nineteen, Joy was just as spunky as ever, but she wasn't so little anymore. With her bright green eyes, coppery hair, and slender yet toned figure, she had grown into a veritable mouse version of her mother. She worked as a full-time assistant at her parents' garage now, so nowadays she had put aside her childhood staple of lacy dresses and strappy sandals. Her favorite colors to wear were still pink and white, though; today she had on a short pink tank dress over a pair of snug white leggings. On her feet were a sensible pair of tan canvas slip-ons.

Her long, straight hair was loose--cut in a style almost identical to her mother's--and she absently coiled a red-brown lock around her finger. She smiled softly. "In case I don't see you tomorrow, happy birthday in advance."

Saber smiled in return. "Thanks."

As he turned and headed out, he thought to himself that since her brother had come up with another one of his crazy stunts, there was a good chance he and Joy wouldn't see each other on his birthday. And if things went badly, he might not see her--or anyone else--for a few days after. Unless his parents decided eighteen was the cutoff age for grounding him and just plain kicked him out of the house.

Out front, he found Joy's bike parked next to his own, a combination that was kind of funny to look at. Ever since she was fifteen, Joy had been riding around on a small custom dual-sport model she'd built with her mother. It was exactly the kind of bike you'd expect a girl like Joy to ride; pink with white streaks and glistening chrome, and naturally it was adorned with the Martian mouse insignia. Joy had lovingly named her Pink Zephyr.

All but exclusively riding on mouse-like motorcycles didn't used to be something rats typically did, but after underdwellers first went underground, they had adopted those types of vehicles in order to swiftly and discreetly move around the surface when necessity sent them topside. Back then, they were all alike; streamlined racer-like designs colored a rusty brown that blended in with the terrain. The only real difference those bikes had come in was size, since larger riders--like his dad, for example--needed a bigger ride.

Things had changed since then. Now that the rest of Mars knew about them and they came to the surface whenever they pleased, the styles, colors, and designs of underdweller bikes were now as varied as the mice's. They'd even developed their own underdweller rat insignia, which Saber's bike was adorned with beneath the handlebars. His black-and-silver ride was a modified racer model, designed with the same speed and maneuverability that underdweller rat vehicles were known for. It also came equipped with weapons in case of emergency--but there was one thing no rat bike possessed. And that was an AI.

Pink Zephyr had one--a nice polite one--and she rolled back a pace as Saber neared to give him room to turn around. Such behavior from what was ordinarily an inanimate object weirded out some of the older rats Saber knew, but since he had grown up around it, he barely noticed. He flicked a wave in the flashy pink bike's direction before he fired his own vehicle to life, turned away from his best friend's door and started for home.

* * *

There were several benefits to having a pair of artificial eyes, and one of them was that they didn't age along with the rest of you. Which meant that when Throttle peered at himself in the bedroom mirror, his vision was as crystal-clear as ever. More than clear enough to see that the lines around his eyes were starting to grow so deep they were visible through his fur, and his jawline and muzzle didn't look as chiseled as they used to. With a long sigh, he reached up to run his fingers through his once thick, medium tan forelock.

Not that his hair wasn't as thick as ever (thank goodness) but the color was another story.

Grimacing, he separated out a section in either hand and stretched them away from his head, releasing another sigh as he studied each lock's distinctly steel gray color. "Okay," he said, "be brutally honest with me."

With a quiet chuckle, his mate came over and rested her head on his shoulder, her abalone blue eyes bright as she studied his reflection with him. Thanks to those eternally rejuvenating cells of hers, she looked every bit as fresh-faced and youthful as she did the day they met. She literally looked like she hadn't aged a minute in all these years, because she literally hadn't. "I told you already," she said, smirking as she ran her long fingers up the back of his head and combed them into his hair, "I think it makes you look distinguished. And I still say it's more silver than gray."

Throttle wasn't sure if he'd call that an improvement, but his mate continued to smile as she ran her fingers through the hair in front. "It kind of glitters in the light, too," she noted, grinning. "Almost like a comet flew by and left stardust in your hair."

"Now you're just being a cheeseball," Throttle said wryly as he turned away from the mirror and put his hands on her waist. "And there's a rule about being a cheeseball around a mouse."

"Oh?" Tamerin said lightly, as he pulled her closer and wrapped his arms around her. "Am I about to be punished?"

Her mate merely grinned before cupping the back of her head and kissing her firmly. For the last decade or so they had been able to enjoy complete freedom with each other, and that meant they could go with any whim that took them, be it riding off someplace and not coming back again until days later, or chasing each other naked around the kitchen, or ripping each other's clothes off and making love on the living room rug any time they wanted to.

There was no one around to interrupt them, because there was no one else home...or at least there wasn't supposed to be. Just as Throttle was about to casually pick his love up and dump her on the bed, his keen ears picked up the sound of footsteps out in the hall.

He broke away from Tamerin's warm lips with an unhappy groan. "He didn't even knock."

Through their bond, his mate didn't feel all that annoyed. "He used to live here," she noted mildly.

"Key words being 'used to.'"

Tamerin chuckled as she moved away from his arms. "I'll let you two work this out," she said, her amusement plain. "I need to use the facilities."

She playfully pecked his nose and scurried out of the bedroom. With a grumbling sigh, Throttle tracked the wandering footsteps out to the living room, where he found a tall, wiry figure with coarse off-white fur casually nosing through the books and other items kept on a shelf by the stereo. "Mom sure keeps this place clean," Michio noted, his tone as casual as his presence. "But then, she's always been super tidy."

Throttle chose to ignore the obvious dig that _he_ had nothing to do with keeping their home clean and instead gave his son an irritated look. "Ever hear of a doorbell?"

"Once or twice."

He faced his father with a grin loaded with mischief, which was one of the only things about the twenty-nine-year-old that hadn't changed over the years. He was so small when Throttle first adopted him he never expected the goat-like being to blossom until he nearly matched him in height--or exceeded it, if you counted the long, curved horns that grew from the top of his head. He'd developed strong hands and nimble fingers, the kind of hands that could manipulate virtually any kind of tool with ease.

Another thing that hadn't changed about him was his big black eyes, and right now they twinkled in a way that said he wasn't in the mood to be mature today. "But maybe next time I should announce myself first, in case I walk in on you two in the middle of being weird instead of just getting ready to be."

Throttle narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Were you spying on us?" he asked...because he was sure that there weren't any signs of their interrupted amorous activity either on or around him.

Michio snickered in response and slid his hands into the pockets of his coat. "Don't underestimate me, Pops, I'm a scientist."

"Uh-huh," Throttle said dryly, eyeing his son's long white coat. "When you were growing up, I never thought you'd end up wearing one of those someday."

But in hindsight, he probably should have. When his little boy didn't have his nose stuck in a book, he had forever been asking questions--endlessly wondering how things worked, why something was the way it was. Now, he was happily devoting his life to studying all the changes Mars had undergone over the last two decades or so, brought on by the increase of moisture all across the planet's surface, which had triggered changes in everything from the soil and foliage to insects and small animals--many of which had been categorized in recent years as having spawned new species. And Michio was one of the ones who collected samples from it all, which were then put through extensive testing in a giant government-funded lab.

Tamerin had approved from the start because it reminded her of the work her father used to do.

"Hey, don't knock the brainiac look," Michio told him with a crooked grin. "The guys and I down in Research think it makes us look sorta boss."

As he spoke, he pulled a pair of sunglasses out of his pocket and slid them on. Throttle looked at the familiar frames with a pert frown. "I've been wondering where those disappeared to."

Snickering again, Michio turned and headed for the front door. "I have to get to work. Tell Mom I said hi."

Throttle made sure to lock the door behind him--not that it would do much good if his son decided to come back, since one of his defining 'brainiac' skills was being able to hack into anything. Still, Throttle punched the code into the electronic keypad (just in case someone else stopped by unannounced) and then pondered whether he should go back to the bedroom and wait or pounce on Tam as she came out of the bathroom.

He never got to decide, because he was suddenly hit with a sensation like his stomach was dropping out. It was a sensation paired with a chilly kind of feeling that swept over him from head to toe, and when it passed he was left with a sense of stunned shock. He didn't have a clue where the feeling had come from--but he knew _who_ it had come from, and he bolted down the hall to the bathroom. His mate didn't rattle easily, let alone in the bathroom; something must have happened. Something that had taken her completely by surprise--and even scared her a little.

Strange images started jumping into his head--a sinkhole opening up in the floor, a small but vicious animal somehow sneaking in, building a nest under the sink and then popping out at her when she opened the cabinet--but when he burst through the unlocked door, all he found was his mate parked on the toilet. She was undressed from the waist down and had her elbows resting on her knees, and there was a folded square of toilet paper in her hands...and she was staring at it, expression deadpan.

Throttle did a quick scan of the room, but there wasn't a molecule out of place. Underneath her blank look, Tamerin was rattled to the core, and she continued to stare at what she was holding like she hadn't noticed him rush in. Nose wrinkled in puzzlement, Throttle folded his arms and cocked his head at her. "Do we need to switch to 3-ply?" he joked.

A second or two of awkward silence ticked by before his mate finally lifted her eyes and looked at him. She didn't say anything; just tilted her hands forward, displaying what she still had clutched in her fingers so he could see it better. The white paper was stained with splotches of red.

It was a sight that made him feel funny inside--like he was intruding on one of those private, strictly female moments--and he probably would have left the bathroom in a hurry...if it wasn't for one simple fact. "You don't do that," he said, his puzzlement growing by the minute.

Tamerin shook her head, eyes distant. Her expression was dazed now, matching the way she felt inside, and her movements were almost mechanical as she stood up, discarded the stained paper and flushed the toilet. She started to reach past him to wash up at the sink; Throttle put his hands on her arms, stilling her. "Hey," he said softly, lifting her face until she met his eyes, "is everything okay here?"

He couldn't imagine what could be wrong, or why she would suddenly start bleeding like this, so all he could do was wait while she took a slow, deep breath and pushed down the nervous tension that was rapidly building inside her. She still felt as dazed as ever, and her eyes darted away from his as she answered him in a small, quiet voice. A voice that didn't sound at all like the confident being he knew her to be. "There's only one reason why an Imeeran female suddenly bleeds between her legs."

Throttle lifted his eyebrows questioningly. "Which reason is that?"

Tamerin worried her bottom lip between her teeth before she answered. She only said one word...but sometimes, a single word was all it took to change your whole life completely.

"Conception."

Throttle experienced that feeling like his stomach was dropping out again, only this time the feeling was all his own. "But--that's impossible," he faltered. "I mean, I'm--for lack of a better term--fixed. And we haven't been together since last week."

His words seem to bring his mate back to herself, and she pulled away from his grasp and faced the sink with a scoff. "I think we both know just how little that matters," she muttered as she switched the faucet on. "And I talked to Dee about your operation right after you got it so she could clarify a few things for me. According to her, even though she tweaked the procedure a bit, no method short of neutering you completely is one-hundred-percent effective."

Little Doctor Deichan had told him the same thing, back when he first went in for his vasectomy. She'd warned him that even though the procedure would prevent any sperm from leaving his body, it wouldn't stop his body from producing it. And she'd also warned him that, as slim as the chance was, it was possible for viable sperm to slip through once in a while, for various reasons.

Despite these warnings, Throttle had never worried, because she had also mentioned that the probability of that happening was some zero-zero-point-zero-zero-zero-something-percent chance...or something like that. Whatever the exact number was, it was so low the tiny doctor had all but dismissed it as being possible. Throttle had dismissed it completely and let himself enjoy his mate freely for all these years.

But it was true what they said. When something happened to you, the numbers became meaningless. At least one viable sperm had sneaked into his semen. And one was all it took.

Still, his reeling mind tried to come up with an alternative reason for what he had just seen. "You know, things got pretty rough between us last time..."

Tamerin scoffed again and blotted her hands dry with a towel. "Not _that_ rough. You've never been rough enough to make me bleed, let alone at random almost a week later."

She briskly folded the towel and set it down, then turned to face him again. Her mood was more under control now: centered, calm. Accepting--or at least trying to be. "You can think up other possible reasons, or I can go to the hospital and get a blood test if you really want me to, but nothing is going to change what I already know for a fact. I'm pregnant."

Hearing that word spoken out loud made his stomach turn over--hers, too.

That was the last thing he felt before his mate's emotions suddenly pulled away from him. Like they were being sucked up by a vacuum, they drew from him and tucked away someplace, secure and tight. Someplace where he couldn't feel them anymore.

Over the years their bond had deepened to a point where they didn't really need to talk to each other, if they didn't want to. It was possible for them to convey what was inside so clearly, words weren't necessary most of the time. Except, of course, when his mate hid what was inside her where he couldn't find it. It had taken him years of practice, but he had figured out how to blunt how much she felt from him--a lot like how you bottled up your feelings when you didn't want to let them out--but it was still a far cry from being able to cut off his emotions from her completely.

Not that either of them had much reason to hide what they were feeling from each other. They usually didn't bother unless they were trying to keep something a surprise...or if they were worried that what they were feeling would upset the other.

Throttle had learned during all the years he had spent mated to one that the dynamics of Imeeran relationships worked a little differently than most. Arguments almost never escalated to angry words or shouting. Dark or negative feelings were never left alone or allowed to grow. When something happening between a couple threatened to break out in a fight, one or both would step back and not speak until they felt calm enough to approach the situation again.

Being able to feel everything you caused someone else to feel whether it was good or bad completely changed the way you handled being in a relationship. Hurting the one you loved was the same as hurting yourself. It had taken him a while to get used to it all, but now, knowing when to push and when it was time to pull back was second nature. And right now, he knew that walking away after his mate had cut herself off from him wasn't the thing to do.

Tamerin fixed her clothes and left the bathroom; Throttle followed at her heels as she breezed across their home and into the kitchen. As she started on lunch, her mental barriers stayed firmly in place and her focus firmly on what she was going, even as Throttle continued to hover behind her. Finally, he put his hands on her shoulders, bringing her darting movements to a halt.

"Come on," he said quietly, his voice gentle and coaxing, "don't go shutting me out. No matter what happens, we're in this together."

Breathing a quiet sigh, Tamerin started chopping hunks of fruit on the counter. "I'm fine," she said, her tone calm. "You're the one who's getting scared."

Surprised, Throttle opened his mouth to say that he wasn't scared...and closed it again as he realized, heart sinking, that she was right. It was so subtle he hadn't noticed until now, but a tiny knot of apprehension, unease, and worry was forming in the pit of his stomach. As soon as he became aware of it, it seemed to grow, to pull tighter.

It was only to be expected. However this played out, their lives had changed forever this afternoon. With a slow release of breath, he closed his eyes and let his head sink forward, until his forehead was resting against the back of her snowy head. "We're going to be parents," he mumbled.

"We're already parents," Tamerin responded, her tone dry. "We have been for twenty years. That's not what's bothering you."

No. That wasn't the issue at all. And like only she could, she had seen right through him and recognized what was going on in his mind even before he did.

It wasn't what was supposed to be going on in his mind at a time like this. Someone who had just found out he was going to be a father usually started wondering what their child was going to look like. Or if it would be a boy or a girl. Or which room they were going to convert into a nursery. Or what name they were going to pick out. All those normal, excited, happy questions.

Instead, all he was wondering was how much pain his mate was going to have to deal with before this was over. If she was going to have as rough of a time as her mother once did or if it would be even worse. And with the knot in his stomach tightening a little more, he couldn't help but wonder if his stubborn Martian body had just put his beloved Tam's life at risk.

Sensing his mounting distress, she quickly set down her chopping knife and turned around. Standing on tiptoe, she put her arms around his neck and held him tightly, resting her head on his shoulder. "I'll be fine," she murmured. "Even if the journey is rough, I'll make it through. And like you said; whatever happens, we're in this together. Okay?"

With a smile, Tamerin kissed his cheek, held him a moment longer, then went back to making lunch. As she did, she let her barriers slowly slip away, until his heart was filled with what was in hers. She was still getting over her shock, and trying to accept the inevitability of the situation. Finding out that something neither of them ever thought would happen had happened left her understandably floored. But she wasn't afraid.

Memories of when her mother was carrying Astrid were playing through both their minds, but even knowing that it could be just as bad for her, Tamerin wasn't afraid. She had gone through and seen too much during her long life, including a war that had lasted for thirty years. Even though she had once shuddered at the thought of risking the uncertainty of parenthood when mated with a non-Imeeran, now that she was faced with that very thing, she had already set those thoughts aside and was preparing herself for whatever lay ahead. She had lived through too much to get scared over a mere baby, and there was no sign of a knot of apprehension forming in her stomach.

Throttle tried to undo his, but with his head full of memories of Bevra's unpleasant pregnancy and the ongoing difficulties of little Astrid's life, paired with the possibility that their situation just might end up worse--far worse...he couldn't quite manage it.


	2. Chapter 2

After riding out of mouse territory, Saber spent some time weaving random patterns across the dusty terrain in the desert beyond. He rode circles around a small lake, dipped in and out of a deep, boulder-filled valley, then wasted a few minutes exploring the confusing pathways between a group of dunes. There were a good deal of plants, trees, and vegetation surrounding populated areas, but the farther out into empty, unclaimed territory you went, the more barren things became.

Saber continued his weaving around as he headed into one of the most desolate places on the planet, where the ground was hard and infertile and signs of life were scarce. It was a habit drilled into underdwellers from childhood: you never followed a straight line no matter where you were heading. Erratic movements made it almost impossible for others to figure out where you had come from or where you were going. Even though their existence was well known these days and they were on fairly good terms with mice, the fact that their underground city was kept a carefully guarded secret hadn't changed.

After jumping a ravine, Saber cut a few more random circles before hitting a button on the control panel set in his bike's dashboard. A light blinked as a signal was sent out, and a few short seconds later he got a response back on the control screen. A brief, casual message that read _welcome back_.

Picking up speed a little, he steered into a narrow incline formed naturally in the rust-colored ground, heading downward for several feet until it stopped at a seemingly solid rock wall. Saber kept on going at the same pace, until his front wheel was about a foot from the rock. With little noise aside from a crackling sound, invisible seams inside the wall between the rocks and pebbles in the soil split apart swiftly, opening a space wide enough for him to pass easily through before the rock wall closed just as swiftly behind him. For an instant he was plunged in darkness, but the next instant the long, narrow passage he was in lit up brightly, illuminated by crystal-shaped motion-triggered lights embedded in the walls.

At the end of the tunnel Saber paused outside the first inner door, a reinforced entrance sealed with multiple electronic locks that glowed white, bright enough to see by even when the motion sensors weren't triggered. He waited patiently while the bored-looking guard stationed today pressed a visor-shaped scanner over his eyes just long enough for it to register an affirmative _ping_. With a yawn, the guard punched in the elaborate key-code that unlocked the door before going back to the adult magazine he'd been reading. The young rat-cross waved cordially before revving the engine and speeding toward his home city of Neothera.

Over the last twenty years or so, only a tiny handful of non-rats had set foot down here, and those select few respected their need for secrecy and refused to utter a word about what they saw. Naturally, this led those who lived topside to spread wild rumors and ideas about exactly what the underdweller rat city was like. Some believed that the amount of resources they had and the overall scope of their city was deliberately exaggerated in order to scare off potential attackers. Others said they actually undersold what they had and their city had to be a huge, self-contained world fully capable of sustaining itself. It was the latter story that was closer to the truth.

Back in the beginning, the resources they brought down from the surface with them wouldn't have been nearly enough for them to survive on for this long, so over the years scout teams had sneaked topside and salvaged supplies and technology--everything from broken parts abandoned by mice and sand raiders to machinery and equipment foolishly left unattended by Plutarkians.

It had taken a lot of time and a lot more effort, but now, there wasn't a thing they lacked. They had underground factories that supplied their small populace with everything from books to weapons, an extensive collection of greenhouses and gardens cultivated in soil enhanced with special minerals and loaded with plants nurtured with artificial sunlight, and of course there was the sprawling city itself. It was built inside massive caverns miles under the surface of Mars and connected by a winding series of cave-like corridors, the streets lit by lamps and fixtures on buildings, and like the outer corridors, there were light crystals set in the walls and ceiling, casting a warm glow that also radiated heat, simulating the look and feel of the sun.

Each section of Neothera housed factories, schools, businesses, and homes, all built from reinforced metal and alloy. They deliberately kept the population and facilities as even as possible in each section as well as kept a balance in weaknesses and strengths. As a result, in the unlikely event they were invaded by outsiders, there wasn't an area that offered a clearer or easier target over the others.

Intruders would find no such thing as an easy target down here. Everyone was armed and trained for combat, because right from the start there was fear that if those who could fight were seriously injured or killed, those who couldn't fight would be left helpless. The logical solution was to make sure everyone could fight, even if it was just a little. So even if they were physically weak, at the very least a rat knew how to aim and shoot.

Things had been peaceful on Mars for almost two decades now, but that didn't mean underdwellers had grown relaxed. They stayed aware--especially the older ones--that threats could arise without warning. And while they had stayed comfortably neutral and mouse territory remained at peace, there was still the occasional skirmish between certain factions of surface rats and sand raiders.

Even if that wasn't the case, Saber knew that everyone down here would keep living the same way they always had. Their secretive way of life was ingrained in them all.

After cruising down a long, twisting tunnel that inclined heavily before leveling out again, Saber paused to get scanned at the second door before emerging in the section of city he had lived in his whole life. Like all the other sections, it was housed in a hollowed out chamber in the ground, the rock walls and ceiling reinforced and lined with beams to keep it sturdy. The ground was kept even and smooth, paved in some areas and left as loose dirt in others. There were parks and other recreational areas, clusters of businesses and shops, the school he had only recently graduated from, and rows of homes. The buildings themselves were rather dull; all of them were either square or rectangle-shaped, and everything was colored in shades of brown, gray, and silver.

The city itself had little color aside from the gardens, but the inside of each building had as much variety as the ones who lived in them. Saber navigated through the paved streets before pulling up outside a small, square building colored a dull silver. There was nothing special about the place, nothing that made it stand out from the equally boring homes around it. Nothing that hinted two badasses lived here.

After hitting a button on the dashboard that opened the adjoining garage, Saber parked his bike inside, closed the overhead door, then swiped his personal key card through the reader by the front door and went inside. "I'm home," he called as he nudged off his boots and left them neatly on the nearby shoe rack.

No one answered, which didn't surprise him. Both of his parents were particularly active members of the community, so it was typical for them to disappear for hours or sometimes even days, taking weapons inventory, confirming that each of the tunnels leading into their city were secure, or dropping in on a few guards to make sure they were performing their duties properly. When he was younger and the two of them knew they would be busy for a while--or they just wanted some time alone together--they would either bring him to mouse territory or send for someone to come pick him up. As soon as he became old enough to mount his first bike, Saber started heading up there on his own.

He liked Neothera well enough, and he felt as comfortable underground as he did on the surface, but there was no denying that something about hanging around mice made him feel more at home than he did anywhere else. It wasn't because of how they treated him, which was about the same way he was treated down here. Everyone was aware that he was a halfbreed, but some would forget, or barely notice, while others were leery of him on account of old, painful memories. It wasn't really the locale, either. It was the ones who welcomed him every time he showed his face: Vector and Joy and their family, all their other friends. And especially the ones his parents used to leave him with all the time.

He couldn't really say he had friends or anyone he was all that close to down here aside from his parents. Which made the idea of moving to the surface and rooming with Vector all the more appealing.

Thinking about it made him remember his best friend's nutty request. After grabbing a drink from the kitchen, he went back out to the garage and leaned against a storage cabinet. Wherever his dad was, he had gone on foot, leaving his most prized possession behind. Saber absently sipped his drink as he gazed across the room at its monstrousness. This, he thought, was going to take some serious planning.

* * *

Hours after he and Tam went to bed that night, Throttle lay awake staring up at the shadow-bathed ceiling. Beside him, his mate slept curled up on her side, her head just close enough to his shoulder for her rhythmic breath to ruffle his fur. As she was getting ready for bed earlier, her mood had been subdued, with a tremor of excited nerves somewhere deep inside. She was feeling all those normal feelings, was asking herself all those normal questions someone who just found out they were going to be a parent asked. That tremor of excitement had faded once she fell asleep, and now all he could sense was a faint hint of calm. Of peace. Some nights he would sense spikes of fear or pain, and he would quickly nudge her awake, then hold her until she fell back to sleep. But tonight her dreams were sweet.

The tan mouse was pretty sure he and sleep weren't going to meet up before morning. He was too agitated, his mind too active--not to mention his hands. Try as he might to stop them, his hands kept wandering. Like they had a mind of their own, one or both would slip under the covers and press flat against his mate's belly. There was nothing to feel, of course, and he would pull away and mentally scold himself...only to do it again a few minutes later.

As he sighed inwardly, his left hand made the journey again, drifting beneath the sheets until it settled firmly against Tamerin's middle. Her skin felt warm underneath the thin fabric of the old band t-shirt she was wearing, that warmth being the only thing he could feel. His mind filled with images of what was out of his reach, what he couldn't yet see. Just beyond where his fingers rested, something was growing inside his mate--something the two of them made together.

Throttle tried to push his thoughts in a more positive direction, but that knot in his stomach wouldn't let him. Each time he tried to assure himself that the three of them would make it out okay in the end no matter how bad things got, his head would fill with stories he had heard over the last several years. Stories from Malteria about pregnancies gone wrong.

Imeerans didn't have complicated pregnancies or births when they mated with each other, but mating outside the species was starting to happen more frequently. No mixed couples had formed after he and Tam, her mother and Rimfire had gotten together--until the children adopted from Stardust House orphanage grew up and found Imeeran partners, that is. Both Tamerin and Ashlin had stayed in touch with each one of their former wards, so Throttle had gotten to know them over the years. As a result, he heard all about it when their attempts at starting a family went sour.

So far, the couples who had been having difficulties consisted of an Imeeran female and a non-Imeeran male, just like Bevra and Rimfire. Only unlike Bevra and Rimfire, no other pregnancies involving such a combination had been successfully carried to term. Most formed in the womb normally, but some of them ended up being ectopic pregnancies, like when Bevra was carrying Astrid. Either way, each of the devastated mothers had miscarried within the first six months.

Despite how painful the whole experience was, Imeeran females were by nature hardy--and stubborn. Some of them had already tried to become mothers again and again. Throttle couldn't help but worry about what would happen when a couple made up of an Imeeran male and a much less hardy non-Imeeran female attempted to conceive.

He worried about what was in his and Tamerin's future just as much. Recent history showed that the chances of them having a strong, healthy baby and a relatively painless pregnancy were all but nonexistent. But maybe, he suddenly thought, having Martian DNA in the mix helped somehow. Bevra's pregnancy hadn't been fun, but she'd made it to the end, and while she wasn't strong, Astrid was nineteen years old now. She'd beaten the odds...but did that mean Martian mice and genetically engineered Imeerans were a good combo? Or was her survival a one-in-a-million fluke?

The thought of getting attached to his own unborn child only to have him or her taken away made Throttle's heart twist in his chest. He pressed his fingers harder against Tamerin's stomach, barely aware of his own actions as he wished there was something he could do--wished he wasn't so helpless.

All of a sudden the quiet sense of calm he had been feeling this whole time drifted away like an ebbing tide. It was replaced by a sleepy mixture of emotions: mild irritation, a gentle regret, understanding. The tan mouse looked up sheepishly as his mate blinked drowsily at him. Her hand rested over his own, still pressed to her belly.

"You're scared again."

There was no point in denying it. Groggy as she was, Tamerin had already traced what he was feeling and figured out what had been on his mind while she slept. Sighing quietly, Throttle shifted closer and laid his head next to hers. "I can't help it," he murmured. "No matter how strong you are, I can't help but be afraid that you'll end up hurt from this. We both might."

He didn't need to elaborate. She knew he wasn't talking about physical pain. In their darkened bedroom, one of the brightest spots was her face, her luminous blue eyes. As those eyes drifted over his face, he could see worry touch her features. Only she wasn't worried about herself. She was a woman facing the possibility of enduring a painful pregnancy for many months only to end up losing her child, and her biggest worry right now was alleviating her mate's fears.

"There probably isn't a whole lot we can learn this early," she said in a quiet voice, "but if you really want to, we can go to the hospital first thing in the morning."

Throttle knew that getting a prenatal checkup this soon was kind of ridiculous, considering that their baby had only been officially conceived less than twenty-four hours ago. But as soon as he pictured teleporting over to Malteria and having his mate looked over by her skillful best friend, something inside him started to relax.

Tamerin took that feeling as a yes, and she gave a quiet yawn as she scooted forward, slipping her arm over his chest and resting her head on his shoulder. As she closed her eyes, Throttle wiggled his arm under her and nudged her closer, settling his cheek against her hair as he closed his own eyes. He still had a mind full of uneasy questions, but he forced them aside for tonight. Something told him that he needed to get his rest while he still could.

* * *

When he went to bed that night, Saber had his eighteenth birthday all mapped out in his head. He was going to wake up at sunrise and ride straight over to Vector's. He wasn't going to fill him in on his plan, which he'd (hopefully) perfected while he threw dinner together for himself. He would spend the whole day gleefully withholding this plan from his best friend, since if Vector wasn't going to tell him just what the heck he wanted his dad's bike for, then why should he tell how he was going to steal it? And come sunset he would slip back home, discreetly (again, hopefully) nab the aforementioned vehicle and meet his buddy out in the agreed place.

In reality, the sable rat-cross ended up sleeping through his alarm and didn't wake up until almost noon. And he didn't wake up on his own; the feel of a gentle hand combing through the hair between his ears slowly, pleasantly drew him from his dreams, until he was sleepily blinking his eyes open.

He was lying on his stomach, face smashed into the pillow in such a way he was practically smothering himself. His mother was sitting next to him, leaning over so her elbow rested next to his pillow, head propped on her palm as she smirked at him. "You plan on spending the entire day in bed?"

Saber let out a lengthy yawn, then tugged the blanket up to his nose. "It's my birthday. I can spend the entire day in bed if I really want to."

His mother's smirk grew. "Not in my house, you won't."

The sleepy rodent let out a groan and tried to burrow deeper, but his mother was already tugging the blanket off. Grabbing his shoulder, she pried him up from the mattress and into a sitting position. Saber playfully fought her the entire way, hanging as limply as he could and flopping backwards as she tried to keep him upright.

He ended up slumping against her side, head resting on her shoulder. Pretending like he was a lot smaller and lighter than he really was, the hybrid let his mother bear most of his weight as he snuggled closer to her contently. Sighing, his mother brushed a hand over his tangled hair. "Did you really just turn eighteen? Or are you still eight?"

Her son snickered. Sighing again, Mom shifted a little, putting an arm around his shoulders and hugging her to him like she did when he was small. With her free hand, she continued to pet his hair, running her fingers soothingly down the back of his head.

It wasn't long before Saber felt like he could drift right back to sleep again. But even as a veil of sleepiness draped over him, making him yawn, he could easily imagine what his best friend would do if he could see him right now. Give a dramatic roll of eyes his and demand that he grow up even more dramatically before fleeing from all this parent-child bonding.

Saber could only guess that how he still enjoyed warm hugs from his mother was a rat thing. Either that or it was just his thing. The hyperactive white rodent, on the other hand, had given up on kisses and cuddles by the time he was ten. He was too busy tailing after his father, anxious to learn all about bikes and emulate the same kind of adventures and wild behavior the older mouse was legendary for. Vector learned all about mechanics from his mother, too, but there was no denying that the slightly smaller rodent had grown into a virtual carbon copy of his father in almost every way.

Saber had idolized his own father while growing up, too. The intimidating but fair rat had been infinitely patient when he was small, and most of what Saber knew today, he had learned from him. And the rest of what he knew he had learned from his mother.

Looking at her now, practically rocking him back to sleep like she was, you probably couldn't tell that she was far from one of those docile, stay-at-home kind of moms. If anything, she was even more of a fighter than his dad was. She was the one who showed him how to shoot and taught him hand-to-hand combat, instructed him on how to defend himself and others in sticky situations and how, if need be, to survive in the wild.

Smiling suddenly, his mother pushed his hair back and kissed his forehead. "You know what you are?" she asked.

Of course he did. He could remember her telling him over and over when he was a kid. He feigned teenage indifference, but something inside him warmed pleasantly. "Your favorite surprise."

"That's right. Your father's, too."

She smiled a moment more, her dark eyes full of motherly love as she gazed at him, then kissed his forehead again before shoving him off. "Now get up," she ordered. "I'm going to go warm your breakfast in the oven, so you'd better come eat it in time to call it lunch."

She swept out of his bedroom, and Saber hopped out of bed and shed his sleep clothes. Now that he was done having fun being lazy, he silently scolded himself for sleeping so late as he got dressed in a hurry. Vector couldn't come into their city and drag him out of bed, so he was probably riding around in the desert near one of the spots they usually met at, or pacing angrily at home as he wondered what the holdup was.

Saber knew his best friend was going to give him an earful when he finally showed up, but at the same time he couldn't help snickering as he pictured how crazy the wait had to be making him. Much like his white-furred father, Vector wasn't known for his patience.

After tugging on his favorite pair of gray camo cargo pants and lacing up a well-worn pair of combat boots, the young rat-cross grabbed a male underdweller rat staple: a leather vest decorated with studs and a few zippers, and a few discreetly concealed pockets that were perfect for stashing small weapons and other essentials. There was plenty of room to cram stuff into the spacious pockets of his cargo pants, too.

As he was zipping the dark gray vest up, careful not to snag the fur on his chest, Saber surveyed himself in the mirror tacked to the wall next to his closet. He still looked a little sleepy, and his hair was a mess, so he quickly combed his fingers through it for a minute. While his fur was the same sable black as his dad's (though his wasn't as glossy) his hair had always been grayish, a little like the color of his mother's fur. When he hit his teens it lightened another shade or two, and then, unusually enough but not completely unheard of in male mice, it started showing traces of thin black streaks. Saber thought this unique feature was cool and had worn his hair in a shaggy, rock star-esque style ever since.

After shaking out the shoulder-length locks, he hurried out of his bedroom and to the kitchen. He was still a good ways from the open kitchen doorway when the smell of his breakfast-turned-lunch warming in the oven reached his sensitive nose. Roast fowl stuffed with vegetables? His favorite dinner for breakfast? As strict as she was sometimes, his mother sure knew how to spoil him.

Saber hurried over and gave her a playful bear-hug; chuckling, she ruffled the hair he'd just finished fixing. "Are you heading topside for the day?" she asked as her son smoothed his hair back in place.

The young rat-cross hastily faced the kitchen table and busied himself with filling a plate. "Uh-huh," he said, as casually as he could.

"I don't suppose you'll be back tonight, then."

Saber gave a mute shrug. One thing he had learned during his eighteen years of living was that lying to his mother was impossible--and ill-advised. But over the years (thanks, in part, to coaching from Vector) he had learned how to be vague enough where she would make her own false assumptions. As he took a seat at the table, he sneaked a sidelong glance before focusing on his plate.

His mother had an absent look on her face as she started putting cookware aside to be washed. "Where's Dad?" asked Saber, before shoveling a mound of steaming vegetables into his mouth.

"Over in the eastern tunnel. One of the locks has been acting up lately and he's making sure a new one is installed properly."

That was his dad for you. Always on top of things and making sure everything stayed running smoothly. Saber sneaked another glance and could easily figure out what his mother was thinking. Already planning out a cozy evening alone with her husband while their adult son was out celebrating his eighteenth birthday with his friends. Whether they decided to go out together or stay in, it was highly unlikely either of them would notice that something was missing from the garage, at least not until tomorrow. Saber hoped to have his dad's bike back by then...assuming Vector's plan allowed for it.

After finishing his hearty breakfast, he put his dishes away, kissed his mother goodbye, then grabbed his bike and took off for the surface. Predictably, after he entered mouse territory and rode up to the garage owned and run by Vector's mother, the half-mouse in question was lurking out front. He waited by the main door, back slumped against the wall and arms folded crankily while Saber parked his bike and got off. As soon as his feet touched the ground, Vector darted over and yanked him into a headlock.

"Where the heck have you been all day?" he demanded.

"Out whooping it up. Watch the hair, please."

Grumbling, Vector popped his helmet off and ground his knuckles into his skull before he was satisfied. Good thing he didn't mind the wind-swept look. "You got everything worked out, right?" the hyper rodent asked suspiciously as Saber rubbed his now sore head.

"Of course. We'll have to wait until tonight, though."

Whether his parents were home or not, he wasn't going to risk attempting this in daylight. Not that the time of day ever affected how Neothera looked, since the artificial lights were always lit and the outer tunnels were kept dark when they were empty. But nightfall would lower the chance of someone spotting them once he had his dad's bike on the surface. Hopefully.

"No problem," said Vector, his mood lifting in a hurry. "We can keep busy till then. It'll just be you and me, though," he added, drooping despite having only just perked up. "Joy decided she and Astrid are having a girl's day out and took off this morning."

"She probably wanted to give us rowdy boys our space," Saber noted logically. "And how come you only say that poor kid's name right when she's not around?"

Ignoring his question, Vector moved behind him, grabbed his shoulders and started shoving him into the garage. "Come on," he ordered, "for taking so long getting here you have to help me scrub the grease stains off the floor. Mom's orders."

"I'm the birthday boy. Aren't I exempt from petty labor?"

"Nope."

"Didn't think so."


	3. Chapter 3

Following a quiet breakfast, Throttle and Tamerin teleported over to Malteria together. They had already decided they weren't going to mention what was going on to their friends or family just yet. Not until they were completely sure where things stood. When they reached the hospital they were greeted warmly by Deichan, who gave them both a sisterly hug before taking them to one of the outpatient exam rooms. "What can I do for you two today?"

As he took a look around at the basic equipment the small room contained, Throttle had to wonder if all the gear needed to find out what they wanted to know was in here already or if the Doc was going to have to bring in something a little more complex. Tamerin gave him a side-long glance before casually taking a seat. Her mood had been even and calm so far today, but he suddenly sensed that she was going to try to ease the tension of the situation--and make him laugh if she could--with a little bluntness. "He got me pregnant. Can you figure out how that happened?"

Dee gave a start and stared at the two of them, her nacre eyes wide. "That shouldn't be possible."

"Well, he managed it. Give the boy a shiny gold star."

Shaking her head in bemusement, Deichan hurried over to the padded exam table. "Here, lay down. No, wait--you first," she amended, beckoning to Throttle. "I want to see what's happening with you."

"Probably something you never anticipated," noted Tamerin as her mate lay back on the exam table, resting his head on the pillow-like padding at the top. "Guy's got mutant healing powers."

Throttle's mouth twitched. "Martian," he corrected.

"Same difference."

From the back corner of the room there suddenly came a small giggle. Surprised, Throttle turned his head and spied a diminutive figure he hadn't notice before, perched on a metal stool with her ankles crossed and a data pad in her hands. Smiling, young Chloe brushed a lock of wavy white hair away from her face before smoothing the front of her nurse-in-training uniform. "Don't mind me," she said, in her girlish voice. "I'm just here to observe."

Her mother was busy powering up the scanning laser situated next to the head of the table. After switching on the digital monitor, she pulled out the pen-like scanner and focused a narrow red beam on her prone patient, starting with his head. Throttle watched curiously as she widened the beam and did a sweep of his chest cavity. "That's not where the baby-maker is," he reminded her wryly.

Chloe muffled another giggle. Deichan's doctor-solemn expression didn't waver as she continued the scan. "It's routine to evaluate the overall health of each of my patients," she said simply. Her nacre eyes watched the monitor. "You're in terrific shape," she added.

"You mean for my age?" the firmly entrenched in middle age mouse sighed.

Tamerin snorted quietly. "What age?" Deichan asked seriously. "You're doing as well as ever. And it looks like having Imeeran blood in you is going to help keep you strong and healthy for the rest of your life."

Throttle considered this. "So, it'll keep me going longer?" he asked. "Maybe even stay younger longer?"

"It's possible."

Sighing again, the tan mouse displayed one of his graying locks of hair. "Tell that to this."

"Good luck reasoning with him," said Tamerin, her sigh matching his. "He's convinced that he's growing old. It's making him question his virility."

"That's hardly a matter that needs to be questioned when he just impregnated someone. And speaking of which..."

The room went quiet as the petite doctor focused the scanner on his lower region for several minutes. She studied the monitor as she worked, hitting keys and adjusting settings. Her forehead lined as she frowned. "Well. That's certainly unusual."

"Whaddya mean, 'unusual'?" Throttle wanted to know. Chloe edged forward on her stool, curiosity clearly piqued.

"Your vas deferens fused back together."

"See?" put in Tamerin. "Mutant healing powers."

"Or it could be your fault," Throttle countered. "Maybe having so much of you in me is making me heal faster and better than I normally would."

Dee was tapping her chin in thought. "I suppose that could be true," she mused.

Tamerin folded her arms and tossed her snowy hair, pretending to pout. "You're my best friend, so you're supposed to be on my side," she scolded. "Gals before sperm donors."

Throttle snickered. The little doctor flushed and hid her face behind her hand in embarrassment, while Chloe giggled some more and kicked her small feet. "You guys are so much fun. When I mate, I definitely want a mouse."

Dee shot her a look. "You're too young to be thinking about that."

"Am not," her daughter said sassily. "I'm almost thirteen. Daddy was twelve when he picked you."

Deichan opened her mouth to respond...then shut it again with a frown. "We'll discuss this later. No family spats in front of the patients."

Chloe stuck out her tongue and went quiet. After shaking her head, Dee set the scanner down and turned to Throttle. "It's hard to say exactly when this happened, but it looks like it was a while ago already. It's no surprise you ended up conceiving."

There was a quiet beeping as Chloe made some kind of notation on her data pad. Throttle sat up with a frown. "What the heck is a van def...whatever you just said."

"Vas deferens," Deichan repeated. "In simpler terms, they're the ducts your sperm travels through."

"Oh."

"I can sever them again if you want," the gentle doctor said, "but I don't think I can guarantee that this won't happen again."

If that was the case, Throttle didn't see much point in getting another vasectomy. He would have to look into other methods. But there was time for that later; right now he wanted to know if Tam was okay. Only as he was about to vacate the exam table for her, Dee had him lay down again. "Before you run off, there's something else I need to do. Don't worry, it won't take long."

Throttle folded his hands on his chest and watched with wary eyes as the small doctor opened a drawer and rummaged inside it for a moment, making medical tools clink. "This doesn't have anything to do with my ducts, does it?"

The pink-skinned Imeeran smiled her most comforting smile. "Of course not. I'm just going to inject a few tiny probes. It's only a precaution."

Throttle blinked. "You're going to 'probe' me? Really, Doc, I think of you as my little sister."

Dee flushed a darker shade of pink for the second time this morning, while her petite daughter hid her snickers behind her data pad. Throttle glanced at her. "She knows that none of this is supposed to leave this room, right?"

"Of course," said Chloe, turning serious. "I may be a nurse-in-training, but I know all about confidentiality."

"Just checking."

Her mother tapped her fingertips against the object she had taken from the drawer and waited until she had Throttle's full attention again. "As I said, you're in terrific shape, and assuming what claims you is old age, you're going to be around for a good long while yet. Which brings me to something that gives me cause for concern--something that didn't occur to me until now, since it isn't an issue for us."

Throttle wondered if this had anything to do with the scan she did when he first lay down. "What something is that?"

"Your artificial organs," she explained. "They aren't designed to last forever. They need to be replaced periodically, which is why I'm concerned."

The tan mouse grew sober, understanding what she was getting at now. Thanks to his brush with death years ago, several of his organs had been removed and replaced with artificial ones. The skilled medical team had been able to regrow some of them (though Throttle still wasn't clear on exactly how that process worked) but the ones that were completely destroyed had been substituted with a combination of electronic hardware and artificial tissue.

Each of his new organs were connected and fully functional before he woke up from his extensive surgery, so if no one had told him about them, he would have never known. He never felt any different from how he always did, making it easy to forget things like the fact that there was a replacement heart beating in his chest.

"For us it isn't a problem," Deichan went on, "because even if something vital suddenly stops working, our bodies will shut down in response. The organ can easily be repaired or replaced while we're asleep and then we'll wake up, just like we do after sustaining a severe injury. But in your case..."

"Having my heart or lungs stop would be fatal," Throttle finished. "I get it."

"You don't need to worry," the kindly doctor quickly assured him. "We came up with a system for those in your position a while ago, since even if it isn't fatal for us, most want to know when their organs are in danger of breaking down beforehand."

"Those probes you mentioned?"

"They're just teensy ones. Microscopic. I'm going to inject them directly into each of your artificial organs, and then they'll monitor the status of things. You have a data pad, don't you?"

Throttle shook his head. "When I want to use one, I just borrow Tam's."

Deichan looked at Chloe, who immediately hopped down from her stool and produced a new, unused data pad. "You should have your own, so you can keep it with you," the doctor said. "I'll install a program that the probes will send a signal to if anything ever goes wrong. You'll get a message saying you should come in to get checked out."

Sounded reasonable enough. At least, it did until Throttle realized that Dee was holding a syringe. Not that he was at all squeamish about needles. But the fact that the needle in question was as thin as a hair and about half the length of his forearm made him pause.

Dee noticed and smiled knowingly. "Don't worry, you won't feel a thing. And you can close your eyes if you want."

"I'm fine," Throttle mumbled, settling his head back down on the table again.

He tried to be discreet about keeping his eyes open without looking as the doctor went to work. But as promised, he didn't feel so much as a pinch, and it felt like only a matter of seconds before she stepped back and announced she was done. With his new data pad tucked in his vest pocket, Throttle hopped down from the table and swapped positions with his mate, taking her seat while she made herself comfortable on the exam table. Grinning impishly, Chloe tiptoed over and passed him a lollipop.

"You were a very good patient," she cooed.

"Uh-huh. Remember when I used to change your diaper?"

Snickering, the future nurse scurried back to her stool. Throttle stuck the lollipop in his mouth and discovered that it was root beer flavored. Pleased, he slurped noisily while his mate was scanned in the same way he had just been. Smirking, Tamerin gave him a look that read 'and you're how old?' while the petite doctor closely watched the monitor. Her forehead was puckered in concentration.

"It's awfully early to do a scan like this," she noted, voice soft as she studied whatever was onscreen. "How long ago did conception take place?"

"Early yesterday afternoon," Tamerin told her distractedly. She had her head twisted so she could watch the screen as her flat abdomen was scanned. Her mood had shifted to one of quiet excitement loaded with flickers of other emotions, like curiosity and hope.

"I don't know what I can tell you at this stage," said Deichan. "We probably haven't even reached implantation yet."

She studied the monitor for a minute or so more, then lifted her lavender eyebrows in a look of surprise. "Never mind. It seems that the little one has proven me wrong."

A grin spread across Tamerin's face. She looked entranced by the monitor, her blue eyes almost shining. Inside, her excitement was mounting, along with something newly planted, something that wasn't there a moment ago. A tiny seed of affection, one that would undoubtedly grow day by day. At this point there was little more inside her than a microscopic cluster of cells, but in her eyes, she was seeing her baby for the first time.

Throttle couldn't sit still anymore. His immature treat forgotten, he got up and hurried to his mate's side. A knowing smile on her face, Deichan moved out of the way, giving him a clear view of the monitor. Onscreen was a lot of red. Red and a bit of pink, and some lines that might have been veins. It was a lot clearer than ultrasound pictures he had seen on Earth, but he still had no idea what he was looking at.

Not until Dee, still wearing her knowing smile, traced her finger around a tiny dark spot nearly hidden in all the red. "The little one's taken root right here," she explained.

The expectant father squinted. "Can you make it clearer?"

"I could," the small doctor said mildly. "I could give you a live feed of any internal cavity in your mate's body you want. But you probably wouldn't like it if I did."

"Which cavity am I looking at now?" Throttle wondered, as Tamerin reached over and gave his hand a squeeze.

"Her womb, of course."

He had hoped she would say that. With the knowledge those words brought, a strong flood of relief filled him, making him sag against the exam table. If implantation had taken place inside the womb like it was supposed to, then that meant Tam would be spared the pain her mother had dealt with. Whatever happened in the future, they could at least celebrate that much.

Throttle held his mate's hand tightly in his own as Dee continued the scan, feeling her bubbling excitement as the tiny doctor went on to say that for this stage of growth, everything looked normal. There was a clear note of skepticism in her voice, since at less than a day old there was very little to discover other than implantation taking place properly. It would be a while yet before they could learn something like gender, or if the fetus was growing healthy and normal.

But knowing that the pregnancy wasn't ectopic was a big load off his mind. Another load off his mind was the fact that Tam obviously wasn't going to be as stubborn about this as her mother had been. It was less than a day into her pregnancy and they were here at the hospital already, and he could tell by what she was feeling as she listened to her best friend that she was going to keep coming in for frequent checkups. If anything strange happened, he knew she'd teleport straight here.

They still had no idea what to expect, but if Tam had frequent exams, then they could at least stay on top of things in case something went wrong. Right now, Throttle knew that was the best he could hope for.

* * *

Keeping busy until nightfall wasn't hard when you had a best friend with a crazy imagination. After spending several hours cleaning up the inside of the garage, Saber and Vector ran out to the field out back. They would have finished up sooner, but while they were scrubbing the oil stains off the floor a certain white half-mouse got a little too enthusiastic as he air guitared along with the radio and ended up knocking over a toolbox. A very large toolbox. A toolbox that held every kind of tool imaginable in every possible size, meticulously organized by his mother. It took them longer to put everything back in order than cleaning the floor did.

When they were finally free, Vector immediately found a new activity guaranteed to have his mother breathing down their furry necks. With his father cheering him on, he grabbed one of the empty oil drums, piled small explosives under it and proceeded to launch it into orbit. When it came crashing down a minute or so later in the front yard, breaking a set of sawhorses and an assortment of spare parts, the two younger Martians fled the scene and left the older one to fend for himself. The white mouse hollered 'wimps!' and 'traitors!' and a few other choice words at them, while his wife came and dragged him into the garage with a few choice words of her own.

After that, the two of them decided to at least try to stay out of trouble until nightfall and went to hang out at Slingshot's for the rest of the day. The popular bar and grill used to be known as Conrad's, but the aging mouse had passed the place on and retired years ago. It had been taken over by, of all things, an underdweller rat.

Having lived with them his whole life, Saber knew better than most that for all their secrecy, his fellow underdwellers were social creatures. They enjoyed the company of others and having a good time just as much as mice did. As a result, the once adult-oriented establishment had a much more family friendly vibe these days, with colorful decor and diner-style booths right up front.

The bar itself was kept off to the right, complete with plenty of stools, a radio, and a large TV guaranteed to pick up signals from across the galaxy. The main part of the floor was covered in wooden tables and chairs, with a few more booths to the left. At the back were standard barroom games for the casual player, while for more serious gamers and younger patrons, there was an arcade in an adjoining room. The room next to it was reserved for private parties.

There sure wasn't anything private about their party that afternoon. The second he burst through the door, Vector announced loudly that the rodent of the hour had arrived (and for once he didn't mean himself) and then declared that the occasion demanded one of the most basic rituals of adulthood. Since eighteen was the legal drinking age for Martian mice, Slingshot humored them by giving them both a free round and let them have the run of the place for the day.

They spent most of their time in the arcade, competing at the various games and swapping playful barbs. A few mice Vector knew from back when he was in school passed through, along with plenty of regulars at the garage. When your mom owned and ran the most popular bike repair shop in town, you got to know the customers pretty well. Vector always greeted anyone he recognized in his usual outgoing, extroverted way. Saber had no idea how he kept track of them all and generally went quiet when he engaged a group of older, rowdy biker mice.

As the fun-filled day wore on, the young rat-cross couldn't help but feel like something was missing. This was the first birthday in his eighteen years of living that Vector's rambunctious little sister hadn't made at least a brief appearance for. But even though his ears pricked up from time to time, listening for the unmistakable sound of her small feet scurrying up, their day had a distinct lack of female presence.

Which was kind of odd, when Saber took the time to think about it. Vector repeatedly bragged that he had inherited his dad's knack for luring in the ladies, yet the young hybrid couldn't recall his best friend ever spending a significant amount of time with any one female. Or more than one female, for that matter. Although Vector occasionally dropped hints or showed signs that he had the same preference as his dad: exotic, other world females without fur or tails. Which would explain why he remained single despite flaunting his own magnetism, since females of that variety were scarce on Mars. And the ones that were around were either family or close to it.

It was a preference that Saber couldn't say he shared. Females like Vector's mom were pretty enough, but the fact that they only had hair on their heads and not a whole let else, well...it made them look kind of funny to him. Mars was mostly populated with rodents, and the only time rodents were hairless was when they were babies. So even if they had a figure that clearly belonged to a mature adult, the sight of a hairless female always gave him the vague feeling that they weren't fully developed yet.

There weren't many female mice in Slingshot's that day beyond the occasional young mother and her brood of kids coming in for lunch. Things always got rowdier after dark, since that was when the place closed to minors and adults came out to play, but as soon as the sun had set Vector grabbed Saber's shoulder and tugged him outside. It would be hours before the sun's persistent afterglow faded, but the white half-mouse didn't want to wait anymore. Saber kind of didn't want to either; he had warning bells going off that told him this little plan wasn't going to end well and just wanted to get it over with.

Still, he did like he always did when he started for home and took unnecessary twists and turns he knew would throw off Vector's sense of direction. He took him as far as the jump over the ravine before leading him in the wrong direction for a while, since that jump wasn't one he felt comfortable making on his dad's bike. He didn't feel comfortable getting on his dad's bike, period.

After leaving his best friend at a random spot in the sand, partly obscured by rocky outcroppings, Saber continued on alone. He acted as casual as he could as he rode through an outer tunnel and paused for the usual scans. Like he had come back early from partying, or was only stopping in for a few minutes. He kept up a moderate speed as he entered the city, riding past brightly lit homes and businesses that stayed open late.

He slowed to a stop and quietly parked his bike a short distance from his own home. He wasn't sure if his parents had gone out or were staying in tonight and didn't want the noise to tip them off. With this in mind, he decided to sneak in the front door and get into the garage through the door in the utility room, since they would definitely hear the rattle the overhead door always made.

After unlocking the front door with his key card, he slipped his boots off and carried them as he tiptoed inside. For a minute he thought everything was silent and empty, but as he was slinking through the front room and down the hallway, he heard sounds coming through the open living room doorway. Soft, romantic music, muted voices, a faint crackle and the occasional pop as a fire burned.

Open flame was a big no-no down here, since even with all their careful but discreet ventilation it wouldn't take much for someone to die from asphyxiation. Not to mention the smoke would eventually escape through cracks in the soil and reach the surface, giving away their location. But romantic-minded rats eventually worked around this and developed special clean-burning gels that were then placed in a faux fireplace setting, complete with fake wooden logs and a brick mantel.

As Saber was crawling by the open doorway, he heard the clink of wineglasses, followed by his mother saying something too low for him to hear. There was laughter in her voice, and he could easily picture his parents sitting together all cozy-like on the couch. Either that or they were getting ready to do things that would traumatize his impressionable teenage mind. He crawled on in a hurry.

After turning a corner he got to his feet again and slid his boots back on, then slipped into the utility room and opened the door to the garage. He closed it behind him and switched on the lights. The track lighting glinted off the glossy black surface of his dad's bike, making the polished chrome gleam. Maybe it was the shadows the lighting created, but he would swear the behemoth bike looked bigger than it did yesterday.

Riding it was out of the question, since the revving of an engine that big was probably heard on the next planet over. And since he still couldn't open the overhead door without alerting someone to what he was doing, he started on the first part of his plan: getting his dad's bike through the house and out the front door. Good thing all underdweller houses were designed to be roomy, on the off-chance that a large amount of rats and supplies suddenly needed to be crammed in one place due to a crisis.

Still, getting the monster vehicle down the hallway and out the front door wasn't as easy as he thought it would be. Hauling it up the single step leading from the garage to the utility room was a pain, and as hard as he tried to be quiet, the enormous tires rumbled as they rolled along the floor, even when he reached the carpet.

It forced him to go a lot slower than he thought he'd have to, but luckily, by the time he was passing by the living room again his parents had indeed moved on from casually sipping wine to activities that would keep him awake at night for weeks if he caught a glimpse of them. If that could really be considered lucky. At the very least the sounds masked any strange noises the bike made as Saber rolled it by while vaguely mumbling, "Didn't hear what I heard, didn't hear what I heard," to himself.

When he finally made it outside, he found himself faced with another dilemma. He in no way felt comfortable with getting on his dad's bike and riding it out of here. He in no way felt comfortable with this, period. Even though he'd said no at first, his best friend's latest scheme still hadn't sounded any crazier than anything else he had come up with when he first mentioned it. When brought up in the light-hearted, excited way Vector always spoke with, just about anything sounded less severe than it did once reality hit.

Even if he was curious about exactly what Vector planned to do, Saber was already experiencing stabs of guilt. His best friend had talked him into doing things he knew he shouldn't before, but this was the first time he had actually stolen something--and from his own father, no less. His father who was closely matched with his mother as the being he most respected on all of Mars.

But there was really no going back now. He would probably get caught trying to sneak back into the garage, and he'd discovered a long time ago that he'd hear it from Vector for wimping out for a lot longer than he'd hear it from his parents for getting into trouble. Either way he'd face the same outcome, but only by giving in to Vector would he save himself from days of disappointed whining. So, with a sigh of resignation, he grabbed the lifeless bike's handlebars and started walking.

There was no way he was riding. That would just be weird, like a five-year-old trying to wear his dad's pants. Just walking the monster of a bike through the cavern and into a tunnel felt silly. The handlebars were so high he had to reach up a little just to grip them. And he had to lean over in order to grip them both, because just holding on to one would make the front end twist as he walked. So he walked with an awkward lean, and all the while he kept expecting someone to stop him--or his dad to come running up demanding what the heck he was doing--but he only got a handful of very confused stares.

"Just taking her out for some air," he imagined saying if anyone asked. A hysterical giggle started to bubble up.

Walking the whole way through the outer tunnel took ages, but that was fine with him. It would be dark by the time he got back to the surface, which was what he wanted. His only hurdle now was the guards, one placed on either side of the inner and outer doors. Generally, someone going out wasn't given nearly as much attention as someone coming in, especially after they had already been scanned and given the okay to go through by the guard on the opposite side of the door. At the first door, the guard stopped him and gave him a long, bemused stare, but in the end he decided not to ask. The guard at the second door was another story. Time for the next part of his plan.

"Does your daddy know you have that?" the guard asked.

"Bet you can guess the answer to that," Saber responded blandly.

"Thought so," the burly, bored-looking rat said. "Is there any reason why I shouldn't contact your daddy right this second and tell him what you're doing?"

Saber didn't know if it was enough to satisfy a bored guard, but he had made sure to sneak away from Vector while he was absorbed in an arcade game earlier today and bought a small flask of the strongest drink Slingshot carried. He took it out from where he'd tucked it in his cargo pants and handed it to the guard.

"Are you bribing me?" the muscular rat asked. "Not only that, you risk intoxicating someone who's supposed to keep watch against intruders and could potentially put others in danger as a result. That what you're doing?"

Saber blinked placidly. "Uh-huh...?"

Grinning, the guard took the flask and tossed his head back. He wiped his mouth with a cough. "Just checking."

He unlocked the door and went on drinking, and Saber hurried through. Getting to the surface and taking a break would be a relief; his arms were getting sore from pushing, and his back was starting to hurt. When he finally emerged from the tunnel and the wall closed behind him, he paused to draw in a refreshing breath of chilly night air.

Vector was right where he left him, and in far from a good mood. "Are you trying to set a record for the slowest rodent on the planet today?" he demanded crossly as Saber neared. "Thought you underdwellers are supposed to be super speedy."

"You try hauling this thing," the sable hybrid groused.

He finally straightened up and rubbed his back with a wince. He had no idea how much his dad's bike weighed...and right now, he really didn't want to. He just knew that it was a bike unlike any other. A custom power cruiser made by his dad's own hands, with a little help from his best friend, Nitro. He'd put it together years before Saber was born, and it had been his pride and joy ever since. He had maintained it carefully all this time, repairing and replacing parts as needed. No ordinary bike could bear his father's bulky weight, so the frame was extra sturdy. Even when it wasn't running, when it was motionless and silent like it was now, it radiated raw power.

Thanks to the meticulous care from its owner, the vehicle's outsides glistened in the soft moonlight. Saber felt a stab of guilt again, along with a funny feeling of protectiveness. He knew from being a bike owner himself how attached a rodent got to his ride. This bike was his dad's most treasured possession. He didn't want anything to happen to it even if it wasn't his hide on the line.

But whatever Vector was up to, he still wasn't talking. With a chuckle of glee that would make his father proud, he unrolled a cloth filled with tools on the sand, like an archaeologist ready to start a dig he knew would make history. "Just stand back and watch the master at work."

Saber stepped back, but it wasn't with a whole lot of reverence. Hearing the sharp pop as his best friend opened the engine made him flinch. For the next few minutes he listened to the sounds of metal tools scraping around the bike's shiny innards. All he could hope was that whatever Vector was doing wasn't going to leave any damage or noticeable signs that someone had been up to something.

Finally, as the light of Phobos and Deimos grew brighter in the sky, illuminating the stars, Vector closed the engine again with a grunt of satisfaction. "All done. You may gaze in wonder and awe now."

Saber gazed, but it wasn't in awe. More like confusion. "Doesn't look any different to me."

Vector 'tsked' in disappointment. "You need to start looking beyond the surface, bud. It's what's on the inside that counts."

The sable rat-cross wrinkled his nose and continued to look, but he still didn't see what his nutty best friend was driving at. And then, for seemingly no reason at all, something changed. With a faint clicking sound, the bike's headlights blinked on. Literally blinked, like a sleepy set of eyes suddenly opening for the first time.

Saber felt a funny chill, and not because it was extra cold out tonight. "What...?"

He stared dumbly, the sense that something was staring back creeping over him. It almost made his fur stand on end. "What did you _do_?"

Vector was wearing his most smug, triumphant of grins. "Congrats, bud. You are now the first rat to possess a bike with an AI."

Saber nearly fell over. "What are you, nucking futs?" he cried.

His best friend cackled in his ear. "You're eighteen now, y'know. You need to start using insults that sound a little more grown up."

"Can't. My mom taught me better."

"But your mom swears."

"Okay, my dad taught me better."

"Your dad swears, too. Worse than your mom."

"I said they taught me better, I didn't say it made sense. Anyway, it'd be bad manners. There's a lady present."

As he spoke, Saber looked over his shoulder. A few feet behind them Vector's bike was parked next to one of the outcroppings. The white rodent had a red-and-black custom-built racer model that was all but identical to his father's, just a little smaller and more streamline. She had been the number one lady in Vector's life since he was sixteen. He lovingly called her Red Ebony, which was exactly the kind of oxymoronic name you'd expect a whacked out rodent like him to pick.

Most riders, whether they were male or female, followed the tradition of feminizing their ride. A rare few made them masculine, while others skipped the anthropomorphizing and just left their bikes nameless 'its.' Saber was a member of the third category.

Looking at her now, he would swear that Red Ebony had edged back a little, closer to the rocks. Almost like she was nervous and looking for something to cower against. Saber turned his attention back to the grinning half-mouse. "You're friggin' crazy, you know that?"

"No--genius. Unbelievable genius. Don't be shy with the applause."

"Will slapping you silly count? This is my _dad's_ bike."

"I know. So?"

"So? Why didn't you do the sane thing and use mine? I have zero claim to this bike."

Vector gave him a look that said he thought his reasoning was too obvious to explain. "Because your bike's puny," he said frankly. "If you're going to make history, you need to do it big."

Groaning, Saber opened his mouth to argue and point out how stupid this was...but he shut it with a heavy sigh. He knew better than to state the obvious--that the thrill of installing an AI in a rat bike was going to be extremely short-lived. Once his dad found out, he'd probably make them remove it. But that was Vector for you. For all his brains and mechanical prowess, he never saw beyond the initial results to one of his schemes. He wasn't what you would call a 'big picture' kind of guy.

But what was done was done, and now he had a sentient motorcycle in front of him. This would be a little less intimidating if said motorcycle wasn't big enough to flatten him in one lazy pass. That sense of raw power had increased many fold, and the headlights seemed extra bright as they shone on him. The engine still wasn't running, but he could detect a feeling of readiness, of being able to take off in less than a heartbeat. It made his own heart thump heavily.

He gave another look over his shoulder. His own bike, still parked down in the city, seemed so small right now. So safe. And Red Ebony was definitely cowering. "I still think you're crazy."

"No more talk," said Vector, with mock solemnity. "It's time for action."

He held his deadpan expression for a second or two longer before his usual grin broke free. With a whoop of excitement, he turned and leaped up onto the broad, glossy black seat of the bike he'd just altered. Saber cringed, expecting it to buck like an angry bronco and throw him face-first into the sand.

Nothing happened...although he thought he heard a faint grumbling, like the sound a dog made when it was trying to take a nap but some pesky kid wouldn't leave it alone.

"Well?" said Vector, as he scooted to the back of the large seat. It wasn't built for two, but since it was designed to compensate for his dad's bulky frame plus a little extra space for his wife, there was plenty of room for two average-size rodents to sit comfortably. "You're the birthday boy. That means you get the honor of taming the savage beast."

His choice of words made Saber's stomach flip-flop. The notion that they had just unleashed the motorcycle equivalent of a wild animal had already been scratching at the back of his mind; now it came roaring forward, along with the sense that he was doing something really, really stupid.

But maybe he was just being paranoid. After all, every mouse bike he had ever seen was roughly the same: a loyal, loving companion. Completely devoted to her master even at the expense of her own chassis. And Vector was the one who installed the AI...

Swallowing down his nerves, he got on. Or rather, with a little effort, he climbed on. Unlike Vector, who was two inches taller than him anyway, he wasn't much of a wild leaper. And the bike he now sat on was designed to carry his father's seven-foot frame as well as endure the rough kind of riding it was put through. It made Saber feel like he was sitting on a tank disguised as a motorcycle.

He wiggled around in the seat for a moment, trying to get comfortable. He was used to his own bike, smallish and sleek and made for maneuverability. It felt funny to sit up so straight, and to reach for long handlebars that stuck out instead of being short and tucked close to the sides. His fingers had barely gripped them when the machine suddenly jolted to life.

With its usual subtly, the engine fired up with a roar that echoed into the distance--probably for miles. Saber's heart popped into his mouth. Behind him, Vector was whooping with joy. "It's alive!" he crowed. "And I'm the mad scientist here, so yes, I'm allowed to say that."

"You've got the mad part right," Saber muttered.

His words were all but lost under the rumble of the engine. With a thick swallow, he loosened his death-grip on the handlebars and reached for the throttle. He had barely given it a tiny squeeze before the bike shot forward like an explosive from a cannon.

It's okay, he told himself, as they sailed across the sand so fast it made his eyes tear. It may have an AI now, but it's still just a bike. It has to do what you tell it to.

To confirm this, he gave the handlebars a tentative turn to the right. The roaring vehicle obeyed, heading out onto a flat, open area. He couldn't seem to adjust the speed, but at least he could control where they were going. You're in control, he reminded himself, as he flipped the visor of his helmet down to block the bite of the wind. You have control.

Somehow, that didn't stop the wild pounding of his heart.

Oblivious to his borderline panic, Vector was whooping at the top of his lungs, leaning back in his seat with his arms stretched over his head like the mad mouse he was. All of a sudden they were bearing down on a rock half-hidden in the sand, slanted upward a little. Before Saber had a chance to react they had ridden over it--and vaulted into the air at an angle for a moment before landing again with a harsh impact that rattled his teeth. Vector abruptly fell silent. If it wasn't for the tail he hastily snagged around Saber's waist, he would be lying headfirst in the sand right now.

He behaved after that, clinging to Saber's shoulders as the wild ride continued. Saber was still barely applying speed, but the breakneck pace didn't waver. All he could hear was the sound of the engine and the wind whipping around the outside of his helmet. Without warning, the handlebars jerked in his hands. The bike veered to the left.

"I think you're going the wrong way," Vector told him, shouting so he could be heard.

You have no idea, Saber thought. They were heading straight for the nearest entrance to Neothera.

His shoulder was tapped. "Go that way," the white mouse behind him said, pointing in the direction of some dunes off to their right. Dunes the crazy rodent no doubt thought would be fun to ride over and swerve around.

"I can't."

"Sure you can," said Vector, exasperated.

"Seriously, I _can't_."

Saber had a hard grip on the handlebars now and was pulling with all his might, but the front end wouldn't budge. It stopped turning left and straightened out on its own, making a beeline for...

The young hybrid's heart dropped this time, sinking far into his stomach. His hands went cold. He let go of the throttle completely, but the bike just kept going. And straight ahead, visible in the light of the twin moons, he could see a towering figure standing with his feet apart and his arms folded. The very image of fatherly disapproval.

Again without warning, the bike pulled to a stop, so hard and sudden the back end popped up. Both passengers were violently ejected and landed in a painful heap at the rat's feet, chest-first. Vector let out a groan; Saber pushed himself onto his knees and looked up meekly.

Arms still folded, his father looked the two of them over before his lone yellow eye drifted to his bike. Except for a faint puttering sound, it had gone quiet. The sudden silence left a ringing in Saber's ears.

"What did you two do this time?"

Saber cringed. His dad almost never raised his voice, even when he was really, really mad. Even when his son had seriously screwed up--especially when his son had seriously screwed up--he spoke in a low, emotionless voice. Somehow, that was worse than if he just yelled at him and told him to get home.

Vector straightened his helmet and sat up. "We, uh, decided to make history and installed a good old mouse AI in your bike. Happy birthday!"

Saber elbowed him sharply for the 'we' part. His dad lifted one eyebrow. His expression was like granite. "I don't remember giving you permission to touch my bike. And it isn't my birthday."

"Whoops."

A touch of weariness in his eye now, Dad gave his head a sharp jerk in the direction of mouse territory. "You. Get out of here."

Vector was happy to comply. He scrambled to his feet and took off, leaving his best friend alone, still kneeling in the sand. Saber worried the seam of his cargo pants as his dad looked at his bike again. The sentient vehicle drew a touch closer, making a funny sound now. Almost like it was purring.

Dad knitted his eyebrows together for a second before his expression hardened again. His head jerked in the other direction. "Get home," he ordered. "And tell your mother I said to punish you."

He moved closer to his bike. As Saber got up and brushed himself off, his dad reached out and rested his large hand on the sleek curve of one handlebar. The bike purred again. "What are you going to do?" Saber asked, polite and timid. He would feel bad if his dad up and ripped the AI out. It didn't seem fair.

A smile tugged at the corners of the towering rat's mouth. "She and I are going to go for a ride."


	4. Chapter 4

The morning following the trip to the hospital, Throttle woke up early. The back wall of the bedroom was an outside wall, and above the bed were two small, narrow windows nestled up near the ceiling. Their height made them private while at the same time allowing warm morning light to filter into the room, glinting off things like memorabilia they'd picked up on road trips, picture frames and posters.

Tamerin was still asleep, her arm draped across his chest and her head on his shoulder. With his mind on everything he learned yesterday, Throttle slowly reached over and picked up his new data pad from where he'd left it on the nightstand, careful not to jostle the bed and wake his mate.

They were making similar products on Earth these days, but Imeerans had been manufacturing data pads for centuries. Imeerans were a save as much time and space as possible kind of race, so the hand-sized units were designed to last a lifetime--a second one wasn't needed. The battery never drained and it was impossible to run out of memory. And you could use it for pretty much anything: reading--or writing--books, drawing maps, storing important dates and pictures. They even picked up broadcast signals, so you could use it as a mini TV or radio if you wanted.

Tamerin mostly used her for reading, and as a former soldier accustomed to recording detailed reports, she was disciplined about writing in her personal journal. She also liked to experiment in the kitchen and recorded some of the exotic recipes she came up with. Since she'd had hers for years, her data pad was fully customized, with a pink-and-blue interface and animated backgrounds made to look like the ocean.

Throttle's was brand new, so all it had was the default interface; bland black text on a milky gray background. Since he wasn't pushing any buttons right now, the unit was on standby, the screen blank and lifeless. The unlit background was a dull grayish-bronze, the glossy surface of the screen gleaming in the sunlight. Aside from the default programs, it only had one other feature: the program Dee had installed before they left the hospital yesterday. The one that would be keeping tabs on his artificial organs from now on.

He was the kind of mouse who was more interested in riding out in the open wind than fiddling around with something with buttons and a computer screen, so he didn't see himself bothering to add anything else. On the other hand, as he set the data pad aside again, he could already imagine what Tam would be doing with hers for the next few months. Making lists of baby things to buy. Comparing designs and color schemes for a nursery. Listing baby names and organizing them from most to least favorite.

After they got back home yesterday, he could tell that her mind was already running in that direction. She hadn't said anything about it, but she didn't need to. He knew her more than well enough to know that how long it had been since conception didn't matter to her. The point was she had conceived, and that meant there was a ton of things she needed to start planning. But she wasn't saying anything about those plans because she could sense where his mind was, too. Right now, his only plan was to wait and see what happened.

This thought remained in the back of his mind as he started wondering how long it was going to be before his new data pad utilized its principal function. He was still mulling it over when Tamerin suddenly stirred. Eyes still closed and murmuring contentedly, she stretched her long limbs before settling against him again. Just like a lazy, sleepy cat. She even rubbed her cheek against his fur before cuddling her face against his neck.

"Feels like your thoughts are all over the place," she noted drowsily. "What's on your mind?"

"Yesterday," he said vaguely. "I was wondering how long I have before my lungs collapse or something."

He paused as something else occurred to him, then said, "I just remembered--my eyes are artificial, too. Does that mean they'll break down someday?"

Considering how flawless his vision still was, that didn't seem likely--at least not for a long, long time. Opening her eyes and propping her chin on his shoulder, Tamerin thought this over. "I guess it's possible. If you're worried, they wouldn't hard to replace in advance."

Probably not, Throttle thought silently, remembering how quick his recovery had been when they were first inserted in his eye sockets. And that wasn't quite the direction he had been going, but his mate had already warmed to the idea. "Maybe you could try a different color next time," she suggested. "I'm thinking blue."

The tan mouse looked at the blue orbs gazing at him so intently, illuminated by the brightening sunlight. Likening them to a shell was no stretch; when the light hit them just right, the iridescent blue irises showed hints of sea-foam green, wisps of sunset pink. Made all the more unusual by the thin ring of black surrounding them.

"Like your eyes?" he guessed. "They're one of a kind. I wouldn't want to copy them."

Grinning, Tamerin playfully plucked at one of his antennas, lightly rolling the tip between her fingertips. "Not like mine, silly. I'm thinking something nice and deep. An ocean blue."

"You and your oceans," said Throttle, with a sigh of pretend exasperation. "If they ever do go, I'll just replace them with good ol' Martian mouse pink, thank you very much. Isn't pink one of your favorite colors?"

"Yes," his mate allowed. "But I like blue better."

She snuggled against him a moment more, kissed his muzzle, then rolled over and hopped out of bed. She didn't say anything as she started getting dressed, but Throttle could tell by her shift in mood that she was going out. "Are you going to eat first?" he wondered.

"I'll grab something on the way. I want to see Ash."

Ah. After learning that she was out of danger of excessive pain she at least wanted to share the news with her unofficially adopted little girl. Throttle didn't see any reason for her not to, even if he didn't plan on sharing the news himself just yet. While she was gone he wanted to go see what his bros were up to; he knew if they found out they would start teasing him, then congratulate him, and then start asking all those normal questions. If he wanted a boy or a girl, what kind of names he liked, how long he was going to wait before he bought baby's first bike. He wasn't ready to get that excited.

* * *

It was a few days before Saber saw Vector again. He was out in the middle of nowhere digging in a mound of grimy sand when the familiar buzz of a custom racer reached his ears and rapidly came closer. Even though it had been a few days, Saber was willing to go a little longer before he saw his best friend again. Scowling, he crawled across the dirty sand and plunged the scoop he was holding into the moist center of what looked like a black puddle. The stench this dredged up almost made him gag. He had a mask on over his nose, but it only did so much.

He was coughing and fumbling to get the fruits of his labor into a plastic container when Vector reached him and pulled neatly to a stop. The white half-mouse folded his arms on top of the handlebars and leaned forward, hitting the switch that turned off the electronic visor of his helmet. "So, this is where you've been hiding," he noted.

There was a little too much amusement in his voice. Grumbling to himself, Saber snapped the container shut and put it into a thermal-like case with the others. He drew out an empty one and went back to work. "Was this your mother's idea?" Vector wondered.

"Who else's?" the sable hybrid groused. "'Go out and dig up some dung samples for the guys over in Research', she says. I had no idea analyzing the properties of animal poop was so important for science."

For a moment his best friend doubled over the handlebars with laughter. Muttering under his breath, Saber stabbed at the gooey puddle.

The wild, docile animals in question were grazing over by a small pool a few yards away. They were fat, bovine-like creatures, scarce once but now thriving in abundance and popular as a food source. At least they were up here. Down in Neothera they needed to mind their space, so their livestock was small. And a lot less messy.

As Saber finished filling the last container, Vector eyed one of the pudgy creatures, wagging its stubby tail as it munched on a blossom. "And here I thought you were looking for a date."

"Do you keep your head up your ass for the warmth?"

Instead of getting insulted, the white rodent went into hysterics again. "Woo!" he shouted, fist raised. "I didn't think you had it in you!"

"You have no idea what I've been through," Saber said seriously.

"I can make a reasonably educated guess."

After stifling a cough, Vector switched his visor back on and took deep, deliberate breaths. The half-rat put the container away and got to his feet, giving his best friend a deeply weary, pained look as he pulled his mask off. "I'm not talking about _this_. I don't want to go home anymore. Ever."

The white rodent eyed him with sudden sympathy. "That bad? Your parents fed up with you?"

"No. But if they were it'd be your fault. Correction--it _is_ your fault. It's all your fault."

Scowling again, he sealed the case and shouldered it. "I take it your dad didn't like his un-birthday present," said Vector.

"Try the opposite. He's gone mad-crazy for it. Started calling her his 'special lady.'"

The proud biker mouse snickered and patted his own bike affectionately. "What's wrong with that? They're all special ladies."

"He kept taking her for rides. Just the two of them."

"Sounds all right to me." Vector caressed the mouse insignia below the handlebars.

"My mom got jealous. Angrily jealous. So jealous that she decided to remind my dad who the real lady in his life is."

His shudder was paired with a whimper. "And she'll remind him anywhere, anytime. Yesterday I caught them in the garage. On the tool bench. I'll never be able to use that tool bench again."

Instead of sympathizing with his obvious pain, Vector sniggered. "That's nothing, bud. I've lost count how many times I've walked in on my parents. On tool benches, my dad's bike, the auto repair lift, the kitchen table..."

Saber was cringing and ready to cover his ears. "Oh, _stop_."

He had his suspicions about their own kitchen table, and really didn't want to think about how it and other surfaces at home might have been used over the years. Make that misused.

"Ah, come on. You're eighteen now, remember?"

"Maybe so. But there are lines that shouldn't be crossed."

His best friend looked like he was getting bored with this conversation. With a stretch, he asked, "You ready to go yet?"

"Yes," sighed Saber. "I need to take this over to the lab."

The white hybrid instantly brightened, his dark eyes lighting up. "Oh--right. I'll go with you, and later we can talk about you moving out so you don't have to worry about catching your parents knocking booties anymore."

Saber had to admit, that was an awfully enticing incentive. After peeling off the gloves he'd been wearing and tucking them into a bag he could throw away later, he mounted his bike and started the trek to the research laboratory.

It was one of several facilities built at a large outpost a few miles from the primary mouse city. Having it there made it easier to travel out to gather samples, many of them as unappealing as the ones he'd spent all morning digging for. All in the name of science. Saber didn't know what kind of profession he wanted now that he was out of school, but he was sure that becoming a scientist wasn't a possibility.

Little was said during the long ride, and when they pulled into the crisp, paved lot of the lab, Vector hopped off his bike and dumped his helmet before Saber had finished cutting the engine. Most who worked here knew them, since they visited from time to time and knew Michio pretty well. He was the one Saber was supposed to bring the samples to, so after being let inside they boarded an elevator to the third floor. The place was just like you would imagine; sterile in both look and smell, grayish walls, plain flat carpeting in the halls and tile floors in the labs, specially treated so they wouldn't conduct electricity. Even then, if you weren't wearing rubber shoes when you entered one of the labs, you were expected to pull a stretchy glove-like material over your feet. Whatever was necessary to avoid accidentally creating a spark that could end up shorting out the delicate equipment the rooms were crowded with.

Since the two of them already wore rubber boots with insulated soles they got to skip that step, but they were expected to slip on special lab coats over their regular clothes in case they were bringing in dust. Despite the formalities, the mood permeating the room they entered wasn't a rigid one. A happy husband-wife mouse duo was working in a corner with a microscope, while a male mouse was busy writing something on a chart as another mouse typed something on the computer they were standing next to. The chatter in the room was casual, and the pair sitting on an otherwise empty plastic table in the middle of the room were even more casual.

Saber knew them both well, having grown up with them. The furry one sitting close to one end of the table was Ako, who despite being several years younger had been Michio's closest friend for as long as Saber could remember. He worked as an assistant here at the lab these days, and he lived with Michio and a few of the scientist's friends from school in what Michio described as a 'rockin' bachelor pad'. If a place that looked like a small chem lab could be considered 'rockin'.

In spite of the title of 'he' and the fact that he lived with 'rockin' bachelors', Ako was actually genderless. Saber had only been five when he went through his final metamorphosis and hadn't really understood why the furry creature had gone away for a little while and come back walking on two legs instead of four. But as he got older he had come to understand that repeatedly changing form and not having a gender was normal for Ako's species.

He still looked the same way he did after changing at age ten; just taller. He had grown to an average height with a slim build, and while he walked on two legs and had facial features similar to someone like Vector's mom, there was still something distinctly animal about him. And not just because he never wore clothes and was covered in thick brown fur everywhere except his face, hands, and feet. He was sitting on the edge of the table with his legs drawn up so his feet were up near his haunches, almost like a dog. Saber half expected him to lift his toes and scratch behind his pointed ear.

Everyone called him a 'him' because it was nicer than saying 'it', but those who didn't know any better sometimes mistook him for a 'she'. Saber could understand why; at a glance, the heart-shaped face, big blue eyes and delicate lips were decidedly feminine. And despite being twenty-two, the voice Ako spoke with was a lot like a child's--easily sounding like it could belong either to a young male or a young female. The mane of dark green hair that hung to the small of his back was also much more feminine than masculine.

But while others sometimes paused and gave the unusual creature a puzzled look, Saber gave a casual, friendly hello as he walked by. Ako glanced at him and waved his long fingers before leaning forward a little, intently watching what the mice by the computer were doing.

Vector was much more interested in the other figure perched on the table. She was balanced on one edge with her knees pulled to her chest, her long, skinny arms snugged around her legs and her chin rested on her knees. In her way, Astrid was every bit as unusual as Ako. She was half mouse, but you'd never know it by looking at her. Like the other half of her parentage, she had brightly colored skin and hair. Unlike either side of her parentage, she was bone-skinny and had gawky, bird-like limbs. Her arms and legs looked oddly long for her small body, and her fingers were almost as long as Ako's animal-like ones.

But this was apparently what happened when a Martian mouse and an Imeeran got together and had a baby. Or at least this was what had happened when her parents had a baby. Saber had heard that there was no guarantee anything like her would ever be birthed again, even by the same parents. Imeeran DNA had too many unknown factors in it for anyone to be sure. Breeding outside the species was a game of pure chance.

Saber liked Astrid, but he felt bad for her, and for more reason than one. When someone saw her for the first time, you never knew how they were going to react. Looking beyond her gangly limbs, she was what some might consider pretty. She had huge, doll-like silver eyes that went starry when she was happy. Her forehead was high, her nose small and delicate, her lips thin and her mouth on the wide side, maybe even a little too wide for her narrow chin. But Saber had seen both mice and rats respond to her with the same interest that customers did to Vector's mom--her appearance was otherworldly and exotic to them. To others...she just looked strange. Alien to the point of creepy.

It didn't really matter. Nearly everyone avoided getting too close to her for safety's sake--himself included. Those long bones of hers were fragile and very easily broken. Even though she was the sweetest, most gentle girl you could ever hope to meet, he tried not to get close to her out of fear of accidentally hurting her. The lab workers felt the same way, clearly giving her a wide breadth as they passed back and forth in front of the table.

Not Vector. With a boldness that almost made Saber cringe, he went right up to the breakable girl, grabbed her bony shoulders and pressed a noisy kiss to her forehead. "Hiya, Asteroid!" he greeted cheerfully.

Saber rolled his eyes; Astrid giggled and gave the white half-mouse a quick hug. She really didn't seem to mind his rough touch--even though the sable hybrid knew his best friend had to cause her discomfort sometimes. Aside from fragile bones, Astrid had highly sensitive skin. Heavy clothes could end up giving her a rash, so her wardrobe was light as a feather. Today she had on a sleeveless tissue linen blouse, and--speaking of tissues--a skirt that looked like it would blow away if she sneezed too hard. They were both a pale blue that complemented her violet skin. Her teal hair moved around her shoulders like kelp as she put her chin on her knees again.

The half-rat tried repeatedly to get his best friend's attention before giving up. Vector had a weird habit of going oblivious to everyone else whenever Astrid was around. The two continued to talk while Saber moved to the back of the room, looking for Michio. He didn't seem to be around, so he headed for an open door that led into another hallway. Behind him, he heard one of the mouse scientists start talking to Vector--asking him about a subject sure to get his attention. After all, it was bound to make a scientist curious, knowing that Vector was essentially a glorified test tube baby.

Vector's usual reaction when someone brought this up was, "Neat, huh?" He thought it made him extra special--uniquely unique.

"So, you were really conceived in vitro?" the scientist asked.

"Yup."

"You parents' cells were combined manually before being injected into your mother?"

"Uh-huh."

"And in only one night?"

"Yes indeed."

"Just one night? Are you sure?"

The sudden pressing of that particular detail made the hyper mouse pause. "Uh-huh...?"

It was kind of an unusual story, one his parents probably wouldn't have ever mentioned to their son--or anyone else--but Vector had overheard someone else talking about it once and demanded to know everything. He didn't seem to mind at all that he hadn't been conceived the 'fun way.' Again, it made him extra special.

"My parents were taken and my mom impregnated with me in just one night," Vector reiterated, as Saber peered around a tall file cabinet. His best friend was still standing by the table, arms folded. "My mom even checked the date and time when she got home. Only a few hours passed at most."

The male scientist he was talking to looked intrigued--to the point where he was eyeing Vector like he'd just found his latest specimen. "It's just unusual, that's all," he mused, rubbing his chin. "Ordinarily, when forming in vitro an embryo needs to develop for several days before it can be put in a female's uterus. Was something special done to your embryo to enable it to safely grow in your mother's womb so soon?"

Vector gave him a strange, confused look. "How the heck would I know? I wasn't even a fetus yet."

"Or maybe," the mouse went on, his excited interest growing, "your cells were stimulated so they would have a rapid growth spurt right before being implanted in your mother. And if so, who's to say that didn't affect your overall growth for life?"

The white half-mouse was edging away now. "Uh, there's no way we can really be sure, right?"

"Hardly. I'm sure analyzing a small sample will tell us plenty."

Vector darted around to the other side of the table. "Sorry, but I'm not handing out any free samples today."

"Ah, come on. Just a little hair. It's for science."

"No samples and no hairs!"

Undaunted and determined, the scientist followed him around the table, producing what looked like a pair of tweezers. Vector grimaced and picked up speed; grinning, the mouse quickly gave pursuit, while the other scientists in the room chuckled as the scene rapidly turned into a playful chase. Saber was watching in amusement when he suddenly felt a tap on his shoulder. Turning around, he saw Michio standing in the doorway behind him. "Ah--just the guy I was looking for." He took the case from his shoulder and passed it to him. "Enjoy your poop."

Michio had always had a good sense of humor and smirked wryly as he accepted the case. "As much enjoyment as you had collecting it, I imagine," he noted.

"Not likely."

Shuddering, Saber followed the goat-like being out into the hall. "What do you need that stuff for, anyway? Compost? Fuel?"

"Actually, we've noticed an increase in minerals in the soil around that area," Michio explained. "Naturally this will have an effect on plant life, and the animals who eat those plants."

"Ah. Naturally."

The two of them stepped to one side to make room for a male mouse walking in the opposite direction. He was looking over some graphs on a clipboard, occasionally making notations in pen. Even if it smelled kind of medicine-y, Saber didn't mind coming here. Much like the goofball chase in the next room, everyone always looked like they were having a good time.

Still, after a morning like the one he'd just had, he was ready to move on and have some fun. "If that's all you need from me today, I think I'll go spend my time doing something a little more sanitary."

Smirking, Michio started to say something--just as the mouse that just walked by let out a gasp. His clipboard and pen clattered to the floor. His head had jerked in the direction of the room Saber just left, his face a mask of surprise and puzzlement.

And it wasn't just him. Every mouse in the long hallway had stopped what they were doing and were staring in the direction of the medium-sized room. Some were poking their heads around doorways. Their expressions all matched. Saber had seen it all before, and knew exactly the cause of the sudden, silent stares. And as he took off in a jog, he knew just what he was going to find as he hurried back into the room. It made his heart sink with a twinge of pain.

By the time he rounded the file cabinet blocking the view of the plastic table, the mice in the room were in motion. Some were stepping forward uneasily, others were edging back. The uncertainty they felt was plain on each of their faces. They all knew the stories, too. They wanted to help, but they didn't know if trying would actually help or just make the situation worse. Ako, who had seen this happen plenty of times too, was standing over by the computers. His shoulders and furry pointed ears were drooping in sadness.

The plastic table was cocked on a sharp angle, like someone had bumped into it. Hard. Vector was kneeling on the floor next to it, bent over the small figure curled up in a tight ball on the cold tile. He kept saying, "I'm sorry." Over and over.

His eyes were almost wild with worry as he helped Astrid sit up, and it looked like he had gone pale under his fur. Saber knew it wasn't just worry and remorse that had him so upset. Like all Imeerans, Astrid was empathic, but she had also been born a telepath. She could control it these days, but when she was really upset--or when she was suddenly in severe pain--her emotions would be broadcast to anyone within receiving distance. Guaranteed to make every antenna-bearing mouse snap their head in her direction. Saber had been born without them, so he could only imagine what it was like to sense someone else's pain.

He knew that Astrid had to be feeling plenty. As Vector cradled her in his arms, her silver eyes were wide and round, her violet face ashen. Tears were streaming down her cheeks and her hands trembled as she gripped at her left wrist.

Saber didn't need to ask to know it was broken. All of her bones were easy to break, but the smallest and most prominent ones were easier still. Out of all of them, her wrist and finger bones had been broken the most over the course of her life. Her ankles and toes came in a close second. And because they had been broken so many times, her tiny wrists snapped with no effort at all, usually in the same place as the last time. Or the time before that. Or the time before that.

If that wasn't bad enough, her heightened sensitivity meant she felt pain more keenly than someone normally would. It was amplified many times, burning and searing until she was shaking from head to toe and her teary eyes had squeezed to slits. And yet in all the years he had known her, Saber had never heard her complain once.

With nothing but quiet sniffles, she sank into Vector's chest and hid her face. Murmuring soothing words the whole time, the white half-mouse lifted her carefully. Saber heard him whisper that he was going to take her home. He decided not to follow. His best friend always went into a foul mood whenever Astrid was hurt--and the fact that he was responsible for it this time would only make him madder. Saber knew better than to bother him until after he'd cheered up again.

For now, he quietly retrieved Astrid's shoes (satin slippers, the only kind of shoes she could stand wearing) from where she'd left them and passed them to Vector just before the half-mouse hurried out of the room. The silence lifted a little after he was gone, though it didn't rise above an unhappy murmuring. Ako absently brushed back his long, bushy tail. "I'm going to go pick her some flowers," he said, before leaving the room.

Saber left, too. By the time he reached his bike, Red Ebony was long gone, her rider no doubt racing straight to Brimstone city. After thinking about it for a minute, Saber decided to head over there, too. In a time like this, he knew just the place to go to lift his spirits. A place he knew that no matter what was going on, he was always welcome.


	5. Chapter 5

The last few days had been quiet for Throttle. Tamerin was feeling energetic and kept going out, sometimes to see Ashlin, sometimes to see her mother, whom she'd also shared the news with. Whenever she was gone he would head out to see what his bros were up to, or go for a long ride, but that afternoon he found himself at home alone. At least until the door suddenly buzzed--repeatedly.

Eyebrows lifted, Throttle opened the front door and found Vector standing outside. The white half-mouse looked nothing like his usual carefree self. His easygoing expression had been replaced with one of worry, and even after the door opened his eyes didn't leave the figure huddled close at his side. He had his arm around her small shoulders and was whispering reassuringly to her.

The tan mouse didn't need to ask why. He had already spotted the small cast on Astrid's left forearm and could figure out what had happened from there. Something that happened much, much too often.

Vector looked up. "I was going to take her home after we left the hospital, but she wanted to come here."

Throttle gave a nod of understanding. As much pain was in her eyes right now, he knew that Astrid didn't want to worry Joy. She'd figure out on her own that something was up when her roommate didn't come home...but they'd cross that bridge when they came to it.

Astrid lifted her doll-like eyes and looked at Vector, her expression pleading. "Don't tell my parents. Not yet."

The white-furred Martian gave his head a vigorous shake. "I won't."

He gave her a gentle hug, repeatedly kissed her cheek, then tore himself away and left. With a shaky breath, Astrid drifted forward and sank against her 'big brother.'

Once upon a time Throttle had been afraid to handle the fragile girl, but he'd learned in the last nineteen years exactly how much force she could and couldn't take. And he knew even if it irritated her skin sometimes, she much preferred frequent loving touches from her family than never being touched at all. With great care, he lifted her weightless frame in his arms and carried her to the guest room.

"C'mon, little sister. Let's get you comfortable."

* * *

There was a section of Brimstone City that felt more like home to Saber than his own neighborhood did. Coming here always made him feel relaxed--safe. Like he belonged. With something pleasant stirring in his chest, he parked his bike outside a residence he knew well and hit the buzzer beside the electronic door. A short moment later a small figure opened it--and hopped to hug him around the neck with a happy sound.

"Hey, sweetie," Ashlin exclaimed, kissing his cheek. "How are you?"

He was soon brought inside the cozy home, where he took off his boots before drifting to the living room. "I'm okay," he said, after politely turning down the offer of something to eat or drink. "I've been thinking of moving out and rooming with Vector, now that I'm eighteen and all."

"Sounds fun," the petite Martian said, with approval. "You should go for it."

Saber was glad she thought so.

Ashlin wasn't like his other babysitters, back when he was small and needed looking after. She and her husband had been more like a second set of parents--and in many ways still were. He knew he could always count on them, confide in them. It gave him a very comfortable, warm kind of feeling.

It wasn't just because Ashlin was his mother's best friend. He'd heard the story as soon as he was old enough to know. How the small rat-cross had helped bring him into the world. He probably wouldn't have survived without her help--his mother either. But even before he'd known about that, he'd felt a special connection to her. He'd been able to tell even as a baby that she was someone his mother trusted him with more than she trusted anyone else. He didn't remember doing it, but he'd been told that until he was about three, he had called Ashlin 'Mom.' He could just imagine how that sounded when his actual mother came to pick him up. See you, Mom. Hiya, Mom.

He'd feel bad about it if he didn't know that Ashlin loved being called Mom. Just like she loved being a mom. Taking care of kids was about her favorite thing to do. Ako had grown up and moved out, but she still worked as a nurse in the maternity wing at the hospital. And she had decided years ago that keeping it closed while waiting for orphans to show up somehow was silly, so she'd closed Stardust House Orphanage on Malteria and opened a new building here on Mars, near the hospital.

Because even though mousekind was thriving, things still happened. Children still ended up without parents. Except the orphanage wasn't just reserved for young mice. The doors were open to any orphan on the planet. Life was harder on the other species out there, and Ashlin had taken in numerous orphaned or abandoned sand raiders and surface rat babies. Anyone was allowed to adopt them, but so far, the different races had stuck to adopting their own. But as a result of her actions, the orphanage had turned into a place of neutrality--of equality. A place where any mother or father could come and give one of the kids a home, regardless of who they were fighting with outside.

It was her main job these days. She still spent time at the hospital when she was needed, but she didn't really lend a hand at the Davidson garage anymore. Vector and Joy and a few others their mom had hired handled things.

And speaking of jobs...

"Now that I'm out of school I should really find work," Saber noted, as he came to stand by the coffee table, hands in his vest pockets.

"Do you have any ideas yet?"

He shook his head.

"Well, I'm sure whatever you find, you'll be great at it."

Ears warming pleasantly, the sable hybrid glanced down at his boots. His eye fell on the small basket nestled next to the coffee table. "Well, hey, Horex," he greeted cheerfully. "How's it going?"

Horex didn't answer--at least not in words. Wrapped up snugly in the basket in a fleece blanket covered with motorcycles, he gave a happy gurgle as he kicked his tiny feet. He was wearing blue-gray sleepers with his name embroidered on the front, and as Saber smiled down at him, he spouted baby gibberish around his blue pacifier. His big brown eyes were bright and alert. Puppy-dog eyes--literally.

Roughly four months ago he had shown up on the orphanage's doorstep. Ashlin had asked around, but no one seemed to know how he got there--until Joy stepped forward and explained. Saber was still wondering how she knew so much, but she said that she'd heard about a sand raider couple that had gotten together even though they were from different factions.

That was life on the surface these days. Certain surface rats and sand raiders were doing pretty well, conducting business and using the rail lines mice had built years ago. Others were struggling, mostly because they weren't willing to accept help from others, especially not those who associated with mice. And others were doing poorer still. Barely surviving, and frequently clashing with others, often violently. As a result, over the years they had divided into various 'factions', groups comprised of like-minded individuals. Most were only made up of one or the other, but some groups included both rats and sand raiders.

The two factions Joy was talking about were one that was doing okay and one that was starving. After the male from the first faction impregnated the female from the second, he decided that he couldn't risk getting kicked out by bringing in an outsider and left the mother of his child to fend for herself. After the baby was born the mother was afraid both of what the other members of her faction would think and of not being able to feed him. And so on the doorstep of Stardust House he was left.

Hearing a story like that had been more than Ashlin could take. By nightfall she had all the necessary paperwork filled out and her new son snug and cozy in his new room.

She was bending over the basket now, face aglow with motherly love as she lifted the plump baby and cradled him against her shoulder. Horex gave a happy little yip, nuzzling her cheek with his tiny black nose. Laughing softly, Ashlin hugged him close--just as the vidphone let out a quiet trill. She glanced at it, then looked at Saber, eyes questioning.

Saber didn't hold babies very often, but Horex usually didn't squirm much, so he took the four-month-old carefully. Ashlin moved over to a small desk against one wall, where she sat and opened the top half of a small, rectangular silver object. The trilling stopped and the screen lit up; she spoke in a quiet voice to whoever was on the line.

Horex fidgeted and spit out his pacifier. Saber tickled his nose, making him giggle and lick his chops. Ashlin said 'not today' and 'have fun' about something before saying goodbye and closing the screen, ending the call.

"That was Tam," she reported as she took her son again. "She wanted to know if I felt like going shopping for baby things."

"Don't you have enough already?" Saber wondered.

Horex not only had Ako's old room, but all the baby toys and things his parents couldn't bear to throw out or give away once he had outgrown them. Plus about a bazillion other things.

The small Martian hesitated for a second. "It's not for me," she said, gently rocking her arms as Horex started to yawn. "I don't think she'll mind if I tell you. She and Throttle are expecting."

"Oh."

It took a few seconds for that to fully sink in. When it did, he couldn't help but feel a little funny, deep down. For the second time in history, a Martian mouse and an Imeeran were having a baby. Would it work out better this time, or would he or she turn out just like Astrid?

His concern must have reached his face, because Ashlin was studying him with a frown. Before Saber knew it, the three of them were sitting on the couch. Horex dozed against one of Ashlin's slender shoulders while Saber placed his head on the other. He let the whole unhappy scene at the lab spill out.

"Poor Vector," was Ashlin's first thought when he finished. "He's going to beat himself up over this for days."

Saber had figured as much. Now that his punishment was over, he was probably going to be kind of lonely for a little while. But when Vector was sulking, it was best to just wait until he resurfaced on his own instead of going to check on him.

"I'll bring Astrid her favorite soup later," Ashlin decided, before getting up from the couch. "Right now I'm going to put this one to bed, and then maybe I'll go find out what that husband of mine is up to."

Taking the hint, Saber got up and went to grab his boots. Ashlin paused and looked at him for a moment. "I know you already know this, but...whenever you need something, you can come see us, day or night. Modo and I are always here for you, no matter what."

* * *

When Tamerin came home later, Astrid was still napping. The snow-skinned Imeeran came back empty-handed, claiming that she had been window shopping more than anything. Throttle had thought that going shopping for baby gear when she was less than a week pregnant was being a little hasty.

Her compiled list of ideas was forgotten as she went to check on her baby sister. As she usually did after sustaining yet another broken bone, Astrid went on sleeping for the rest of the evening. Ashlin dropped by at one point, having figured out on her own that if she wasn't home or at her parents' then she must have come here. After letting them know that her parents planned to stop by first thing in the morning, she handed over a container of Astrid's favorite soup and left quietly.

The sweet, fragile girl was still asleep by bedtime, so he and Tam decided to hit the sack early. Throttle couldn't remember dreaming anything after he drifted off, but a sudden jolt of panicked fear had him jerking awake. He automatically turned to his mate...but she was sleeping calmly, her expression serene. Throttle tenderly kissed her forehead before slipping out of bed.

The feeling of fear had gone already, but he knew where it had come from. In his sleep it was hard to tell, but when he was awake and alert, there was no mistaking the source. It wasn't like how he could sense Tam. When her emotions were strong, they all but consumed him. Spreading down through his antennas, into his chest, penetrating his heart and flooding out into his veins. It was something to experience--especially when those emotions were positive.

It was a lot different when those emotions came from Astrid. When they spiked beyond her ability to contain them, they were felt by every mouse within range--a range that grew depending on how strongly she felt. But even when what she was feeling was intense, those emotions never did more than graze by. Tingle at the tips of your antennas before fading away. They didn't penetrate down to your soul like they did when you were mated to an Imeeran. Throttle was glad; it would feel weird if they did.

Now that he was awake, he recognized what he'd just felt, having felt it a lot when Astrid was small. She'd had frequent nightmares her whole life, though she never said what they were about. Whenever someone asked she would just sit there silently and shake her head.

Throttle could picture on his own what might make her kick up a sweat. Being lost and alone and too hurt to move. Or maybe just being left alone. She kept feelings like that to herself these days, but when she was younger, Throttle distinctly remembered her feeling guilty. She knew that taking care of someone like her was hard on those around her. She never said so out loud, but he knew she wished that she could be stronger. She wanted to lift the burden from everyone in her life just as much as she wanted to lift it from herself. And even though she knew they all loved her, the part of her buried deep inside that was still a frightened child--the part that existed in everyone, in some form or another--was afraid that they would all lose their patience and give up on her.

Never, the tan mouse vowed silently, as he stepped toward the guest room. It used to be Michio's old room but now they kept it for company. When the door slid open with a quiet hiss, Astrid was sitting up in bed. Even in the darkness he could see trails of moisture staining her cheeks. She sniffled quietly as he came and sat on the edge of the bed.

He knew she wasn't going to tell him what she'd been dreaming about, so he didn't bother asking. He stayed silent as he gently coaxed her to lay down again before smoothing teal hair off her sweaty forehead. Her large eyes watched him, as sharp as his own in the darkness. They were still moist, but they held a look of trust. Even if nothing was said, the mere presence of family brought her comfort.

Like any Imeeran, Astrid could sense emotions through touch, so Throttle kept his thoughts calm as he continued to brush hair back from her face in a soothing manner. He kept his mind focused on safe, comforting things, hoping to coax away any lingering images left over from her nightmare. Her face was hot, but her hair felt cool and smooth against the pillow. Impossibly fine and delicate.

Everything about her was delicate. The bones of her shoulder visible through the gauzy fabric of her nightgown, her protruding collar bones, her slender arm and narrow wrist. He lifted her good hand, mindful of the prominent bones of her wrist and knuckles as he softly cupped her long fingers. A small smile touched her lips as those airy digits curled around his furry, much more substantial ones. But even as she smiled, he caught a flicker of something pass through her eyes, something that made her eyebrows draw together in a wince for a second. Just long enough for him to notice.

He tried not to let it, knowing she could sense it, but his heart ached quietly as he continued to hold her hand. Even a touch as soft as this was tough on her. Because even if she didn't have sensitive skin, having her wrists and finger bones broken so many times had painful repercussions. They'd learned a couple of years ago that premature arthritis had set in--a health issue Imeerans weren't bothered by.

Throttle couldn't imagine what that was like. To live in constant pain, to have the threat of injuries that would only add to that pain hovering over you at all times. The ache in his heart deepened; Astrid's hold on his hand tightened. Her eyes were dry now, her smile soft and assuring. "I'm okay," she said in a quiet voice.

His throat grew uncomfortably thick. She was the one in pain, the one faced with the possibility of that pain only growing worse as the years went by, yet she was the one trying to reassure him. Which wasn't anything new. She'd always tried to cheer up her loved ones when they were down--especially when they were down because of her. She didn't like it when someone was upset, and she especially didn't want anyone to get upset over her. It was just the way she was.

After carefully placing her hand on her middle, Throttle drew the blanket up to her shoulders. Leaning over her, he left as soft a kiss as he could on her forehead. "Love you, little sister," he whispered. "Now go back to sleep. I'll watch over you."

Astrid's smile turned sweet. "I know. Love you too, big brother."

* * *

Since his best friend was busy sulking and he didn't feel like going home and finding out what his parents might be up to, Saber hung around Brimstone for the next few days. He stayed busy while he was here, keeping his eyes and ears open for anyone looking to hire a new employee. After all, if he was going to move in with Vector soon, it made a lot more sense to get a job here than down in Neothera.

Just for the heck of it he asked Slingshot if he needed any extra hands, but the bartender already had a full staff of waiters, kitchen crew, and cute barmaids for when the bar closed to minors.

The sun was setting as Saber stepped back outside. Disappointed with his lack of progress and his head full of other places he could try, he turned the corner of the large bar and grill--and almost walked straight into Joy. "What are you doing out here?" he asked in surprise.

The popular bar was toward the outskirts of town, not all that far from the Davidson garage. Still, even though her brother came here all the time for the arcade and a few mild drinks, Saber couldn't remember ever seeing Joy here by herself.

She looked pretty casual today, dressed in faded jeans, sneakers, and a denim jacket over a pink tank top. Shrugging, she slid her hands into her jacket pockets. "Just out for a walk," she said lightly. "You?"

"Job hunting," said Saber. "You know of anyone who needs a hard worker? I've been drawing a blank."

He expected her to shrug again and say no, but instead Joy brightened. "Sure, I know of a place where they're always looking for more help. Want me to show you?"

Saber didn't see any reason why not, so he followed her back where she had parked Pink Zephyr, which wasn't all that far from where he'd left his own bike. They rode to the other end of the city together, then headed out beyond the main border to a small freight yard built to the south. It was a place where cargo was dropped off, so it wasn't as big as some of the other yards, which were used to both load and unload and as a hub for freight cars both coming and going.

Joy rode past the cluster of buildings, the stacks of empty freight cars, the handful of platforms. She followed alongside one of the smaller rails used mainly by maintenance cars, heading out into an empty patch of land crisscrossed with more rails. The setting sun cast long shadows as the grass bent in their wake.

She eventually led him out to one of the larger freight yards. It wasn't as big as the main one, which had grown almost into a miniature city in the last eighteen years or so. This place was relatively quiet, used mostly as a storage facility for empty cars and cars that needed repairs. There were tall stacks of freight cars and empty cargo crates, an array of buildings including an engine house and a cafeteria, and storage sheds packed with replacement rails and other parts.

The ground of the yard was dusty, what little grass there was flat and yellowed. There were a few workers moving around, carrying supplies in and out of the buildings and either opening or sealing cargo crates. Joy took him to the foreman's office, which was at the edge of the yard and looked like a small shack with a metal roof. The foreman himself was sitting inside, parked behind a metal desk covered in folders and papers. File cabinets brimming with more papers were shoved anywhere they could fit. The whole room seemed to yell 'organized chaos.'

Joy introduced him to the burly, middle-aged foreman as a mouse named Torque. He had scruffy dark hair and looked a little unfriendly at first, but he stood up with a smile and shook his hand firmly. Joy got right to the point and explained that Saber was looking for a job.

"We could always use an extra hand to unpack and move the crates around here, if you're interested," said Torque. "Keep in mind that it's rough work. Lots of heavy lifting."

"I can handle it," Saber said confidently.

He wasn't as big as some, but he was no wimp. And physical labor was more to his taste than something that took a lot of brain power. Not that he wasn't smart, but there was something more satisfying to him when a job required strength. It made him feel good to give his muscles a workout and then step back to look at what he had accomplished. And as Torque went over the particulars with him, he saw that the job paid well--better than he thought it would.

He spent the next hour or so filling out paperwork and hashing out his new schedule. Hours were flexible, since most of the mice who worked here had others jobs and families, but a certain amount of hours were expected to be clocked each week. Once upon a time, mice kept personal paperwork and background information to a minimum due to safety concerns during the war, but now that it was long over, things like this were becoming the norm.

When he was finally finished, his new boss gave the forms a look over. His bushy eyebrows lifted in surprise. "You're General Carbine's son?"

"Uh-huh."

Even in retirement, his mom was famous.

"I hope you don't expect that to get you preferential treatment."

"My mom would smack me if I did."

Mollified, Torque left his signature on several of the forms before filing them away. And just like that, Saber was hired on to start at the beginning of next week.

Elated, he thanked him before heading out of the office--and didn't notice until now that Joy had stepped out at some point. She was standing a ways away from the small building with her back facing him, talking to what would soon be one of his coworkers. The mouse walked away, and Joy paced a few steps, shifting her weight from hip to hip. Her slim tail swished absently above her...

Clearing his throat, Saber hurried to catch up. "All done," he announced.

The slender half-mouse gave a nod of her head. Her eyes were on the horizon. The sun had long set, its afterglow like a white flare that spread miles into the sky before tapering and fading away. Saber studied the mountain range in the distance with her silently as a thought started to form in his mind.

Joy really seemed to get around--to the point where she was a familiar face even out here. He had noticed in the past that she didn't seem to be a stranger to much of anyone, but it never really struck him as significant before. He just assumed she was as outgoing and friendly as her brother. Always greeting people pleasantly whether she knew them or not. But a place like this was a little too far removed from home territory for her familiarity here to be a result from mere friendliness.

In a quiet, serious voice, he asked, "What are you doing out here?"

He almost expected her to feign innocence and ask what he meant. Instead, hands in her jacket pockets, she turned away. Head down, she started walking. Saber quickly fell in stride beside her. "Is it a secret?" he wondered, genuinely curious now.

Joy gave her head a small shake. "Not exactly. I'm not doing anything wrong, but...there are some people who would have a problem with it."

"What kind of people?"

Her pace slowed almost to a stop as she lifted her head and looked at him. Her green eyes were solemn. "The same people who sometimes have a problem with you. Or Ashlin."

A knot of understanding drew together in his stomach. He knew the kind of people she was talking about--the kind of things they might have a problem with. Fur that was a little too thick. Tails that were much bigger around and covered in a thin layer of coarse hair. A mouse-like face that didn't have any antennas.

There weren't many who looked down on those things and fewer still who thought about acting out because of it, but Saber knew they existed. He'd always known--and Ashlin knew even better than he did. She understood in a way no one else could and made sure to drill it in him when he was small that none of those things mattered. That those who really loved him would never, ever care that he had the tail of a rat, or didn't have antennas. They would love him because of those things, not in spite of them.

He'd come to learn that the reverse was also true--that rats who really loved him didn't care that he looked more like a mouse than anything else. It was an issue that neither Vector or Joy ever had to deal with. They were hybrids too, but they didn't look it. And even if they did, it probably wouldn't make a difference. Their other half wasn't something anyone on Mars had a problem with. Their other half was from another planet entirely.

Joy still understood. She'd listened to the stories from the past, and seen the looks some of the older mice gave him, and heard the whispers they sometimes spoke. She was always the first to stick up for him if she thought someone was out of line, no matter how much older or bigger they were than her.

"I won't tell anyone," Saber promised.

Joy gave him a satisfied smile before quickening her pace again. She continued to walk until they were at the far end of the yard, at the back where empty containers were kept. They were stacked at various angles, some of them standing many feet over Saber's head. Moving around them felt like walking between miniature towers, a small forest of boxy metal. Some of them looked like they had been left here a long time; dusty and weather-beaten, they almost seemed like part of the terrain.

It was into the heart of this section that Joy headed. The main opening faced the desert, away from the yard itself. Almost like a world unto itself, Saber realized. Hidden away and private. The containers blocked in a fairly large area, keeping out wind and sound. Someone could meet here in secret and you'd never know.

And as they turned a corner and entered a space like a clearing in a forest, Saber realized that was exactly what it was used for.

At the center of the stacked containers was an area about twenty feet around. Within it were numerous makeshift seats: small boxes, spare rails stacked so they looked like benches. Blankets had been draped over hard surfaces to make them a little more comfortable. An electric heater had been placed in the center; it glowed a soft white as it radiated warmth.

Other small light sources had been placed out, giving off just enough light to illuminate the immediate surroundings but not alert anyone from a distance. The afterglow of the sun was barely visible here. Twilight had settled in, casting deep shadows and turning Mars from reddish-brown to silver and gray.

It was the perfect time for a secret conference--or whatever was going on here. Aside from the lights, there was food set out, balanced on the edges of uneven containers or lined up on rails. And there were different furred figures loitering around, some of them sitting, some of them standing. None of them were mice. Some of them were rats--but not fellow Neotherans.

You could always tell the difference between surface rats and underdwellers. Though it was once thought to be the other way around, rats who lived on the surface had harsher lives. It showed in the wiriness of their frames, the scruffiness of their fur, the weathered look to the faces. Their clothes were usually worn to the point they had been patched multiple times. The group here was no exception.

Sand raiders usually looked about the same, or worse, depending on which faction they were from. Gone were the days when they had bulging bellies and tattoos and spent most of their time guzzling drinks and bossing around slaves. Hard work had turned them smaller, thinner. You'd never know by looking at them now that they had once been such a decadent, indulgent race.

There were sand raiders here tonight too, sitting alongside the rats and talking quietly. Everyone went silent when the two of them appeared, all eyes turning to them. But no one jumped up or grew tense. Joy walked into their midst casually, murmuring a greeting to more than a few. Like everyone here was old friends. She took a seat on a rail next to a female sand raider and accepted the drink that was handed to her.

Saber remained standing, feeling a little awkward as conversation resumed. But that was the way he always felt when he found himself in the middle of a group that obviously knew each other when he knew no one. There was nothing sinister in the air, nothing about the unlikely group that suggested anything was going on here other than they were a group who just wanted to be left alone.

They all looked fairly close in age; late teens to early twenties. Each of them looked like they lived a rougher life than either he or Joy did, that roughness reflected in both their clothes and physical appearance. Some looked like they were scraping by all right, others looked like they went hungry more often than not. It also looked like each of them came from a different faction--factions who wouldn't be happy if they knew this kind of intermingling was going on. Just like certain mice wouldn't be happy if they knew Joy was sitting next to a scruffy female sand raider.

Saber leaned back against one of the containers, arms folded. A few feet away a male sand raider was doing the same. His yellow-brown eyes were studying him, though with curiosity or suspicion, Saber couldn't tell. He was tall and thin, but not to the point where he was bony. His ears and snout were longish, his fur spiky. He was wearing an old denim vest over a patched t-shirt and was fiddling with something in one of the pockets as he watched him.

He looked a lot different from the female Joy was sitting by. She was much shorter, her snout brief and her ears shaped like floppy little triangles. Her fur was grayish, with white markings. She reminded Saber of Horex--probably from the same faction, he realized. Judging by her weight and the state of her clothes, she wasn't doing as well as some of the others.

Yet she looked happy to be here, laughing at something Joy was saying. With a sudden look of amusement, the male who had been watching him shifted his eyes to the pale-furred rodent. His head jerked in Saber's direction. "That him?"

Joy looked up. "Mm-hm," she said, her tone casual. "He just got a job here at the yard, so you'll be seeing more of him."

Nobody looked particularly concerned. Saber guessed that since he was with Joy, nobody figured he was anybody to worry about. That is, not anybody who would tell about what he'd seen here tonight.

With an air of indifference, the male sand raider pulled what he'd been fiddling with out of his pocket. As Saber watched, he withdrew a cigarette, slid it into his mouth and proceeded to light it. "Are you smoking?" the sable rodent asked--before he could stop himself.

A snicker of laughter spread through the group at this ridiculously obvious question, making his ears warm. The sand raider in question arched a spiky eyebrow before inhaling deeply and releasing a billow of white smoke that receded into nothing as it drifted into the blue-gray overhead.

"Yup, he's smoking," said Joy, clearly amused.

She twisted to face a random direction and called out, "Somebody call the police!"

Everyone snickered again. Saber's ears continued to warm until they burned. He didn't bother explaining why he'd been surprised--when you lived in Neothera, nobody needed an explanation. Living underground like they did, even with an air filtration system, everyone did their part to keep the air clean. Nobody smoked--or if they did, they went topside first. As a result it just wasn't something he had grown up with. Not that it mattered. If his mother ever caught him trying to pollute his lungs, shoveling animal dung would be the least of his worries.

He pushed away from the container. "Think I'll head home and start packing," he mumbled. Might as well be ready to move out whenever Vector finished sulking.

Halfway to his bike, he heard footsteps scurry up behind him. "You didn't need to leave over me," he said, as Joy caught up to him.

"It's okay," she told him, sweeping red-brown hair off her shoulder. "Astrid's home now and I don't want her to start worrying about me."

As the distance between them and the back of the yard increased, she glanced over her shoulder. Lowering her voice, she said, "I know they look a little rough, but they're good where it counts. They just don't have it as easy as some of us do. All they really want is a place they can go where they don't have to worry about who's fighting with who. A place where no one will bother them."

"Don't worry," Saber assured her. "I'll leave them alone. And I'll try to help make sure no one finds out about them coming here."

Joy flashed a smile and gave his arm a squeeze. "I'm sure you will. You're good like that."


	6. Chapter 6

_Beat your drum with your own sound_  
_Drive your stake into the ground_  
_You gotta show the world who you are_  
**~Take A Stand by** ** Issa **

About a week and a half after first learning he was going to be a father, Throttle woke up one morning to an empty bed. It didn't surprise him; Tam was still extra energetic and had taken to getting up before him. She usually left his breakfast on the kitchen table with a love note before she left, either to do more window shopping or just to chat with the mothers in their neighborhood. Despite neither of them making a big deal about it, it hadn't taken long for news about her pregnancy to get around.

He could tell by the closeness of her mind that she was home today--in the living room, he judged. She felt happy, her thoughts joyful and full of laughter. Wondering what she was up to, Throttle slipped out of bed and crept to the living room. Tam sensed him coming, though she didn't look up from what she was doing.

She was dressed in her usual sleep attire of an old band t-shirt, her legs and feet bare. Seated cross-legged and settled back in the cushions of the couch, all her focus was on what was cradled in her arms. Horex, Ashlin's newly adopted baby boy. He was giggling and flailing his short arms as the snow-skinned Imeeran tickled his muzzle between peppering his little nose with kisses. There was a hint of pink in her cheeks and her blue eyes were bright.

Her heart was bubbling over with a happiness that Throttle could tell wasn't caused solely by the baby in her arms. She loved her fuzzy 'grandson' and was always happy to babysit, but this morning there was something more on her mind. For her, this was a preview of things to come. She already had plenty of experience raising babies, what with all the ones she had reared during the years she ran the orphanage, but this was different. This was going to be her very own child, one she would carry and plan for until she gave birth a year from now...assuming everything went okay.

Yet even with that cloud of uncertainty hovering over her, he could tell she couldn't wait. She was ready to have this experience all over again, and to experience all the things that would be happening to her for the very first time. She was ready for the morning sickness, the mood swings, the wild food cravings. She was ready to sing lullabies, hear first words, see first steps. And she wasn't afraid. She wasn't even worried. Only excited. Eager. Hopeful. Watching her now, face aglow as she gently rocked Horex, Throttle came to realize something.

Tamerin was always meant to be a mother.

* * *

In the days following his being hired at his new job, Saber kept himself busy. He knew when Vector found out the first thing he was going to do was tell him to move out of his parents' house and become his new roomie, so he prepped for that day by packing up his things between traveling out to work at the freight yard.

Not that he had a whole lot to take with him. Underdwellers were a non-materialistic kind of society, skilled in--especially if they made special trips to the surface that required them to settle someplace for a while--being able to uproot everything and everyone at a moment's notice and without leaving a trace behind. That wasn't possible if you had a lot of stuff that wasn't easy to just throw in a bag and run off with.

Life was sort of run this way in Neothera, too, the older citizens ever prepared for the entire populace to pack up and take off in the dead of night, if they had to. As a result, no one ever really got too attached to a whole lot except for their rides and their families.

So it only took him a few hours total to pack his clothes and a few of his other belongings into a pair of large duffel bags. He couldn't start dragging his bed or any of his other bedroom furniture to the surface, so all that was being left behind. His parents would make good use of everything, either re-purposing or giving them away to someone who needed them.

He finished packing on his day off, so the only thing left to do was head out. He still hadn't seen Vector, so he planned to stay at Modo and Ashlin's until the white half-mouse finally resurfaced. And so, with one duffel bag slung over his shoulder and the other tucked under his arm, he found himself standing outside the place that had been his home for the last eighteen years. Standing beside his bike only moments away from riding away forever.

Well, not _forever_ , forever. He'd visit. But when he rode away this time, it would officially stop being his home. He would officially be an independent adult.

He took one look at his mom, watching him with her arms crossed and one hand clutching her shoulder as a frown creased her eyes, and felt his throat tighten so hard it made his own eyes start to cloud. With a quiet laugh, Mom stepped forward and put her arms around him. "You'll do fine," she whispered, as she ran her hand over his hair. "And you can come see us or call anytime you need to."

Saber gave a nod and tried not to sniffle too obviously. He clung to his mother with his free arm until self-consciousness made him let go. As he moved back, his gaze fell on his father, who was standing behind Mom with his arms folded. After blinking his eyes to clear them, Saber went quietly over and stood before him, expecting a quick, unemotional goodbye.

Instead, Dad surprised him by smirking and hooking one arm around his shoulder, hugging him close as he ruffled his hair. "You turned out all right," he noted wryly.

"Thanks," his son mumbled, ears warming. He could hear strong affection under the teasing words. Smiling now, his father rested his broad hand on the top of his head. Saber felt kind of funny--smaller than he really was, and not just because his dad was so much bigger than him.

"Your mother and I couldn't be more proud of you. You'll be just fine out there."

He let go and took a step back, while his hand moved from his son's head to his shoulder. His expression was touched by sternness as he squeezed, just enough to make Saber wince. "You just need to stop letting that friend of yours talk you into doing stuff you know better than to do. Got it?"

Saber nodded in embarrassment before hurrying to his bike. As he tied his duffel bags to the back, he sneaked a glance at his parents; they had moved closer together, Dad with his hand on Mom's waist. Mom was worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, something she didn't do a whole lot. Only when she was trying hard not to tear up.

"I'll call," he said awkwardly. "You know, after I get settled in."

Mom nodded; Dad smiled briefly. "You're an adult now. We know you have it together."

After fumbling to finish tying his bags down and saying a few more awkward things like 'this is it' and 'see you', Saber was finally on his bike and riding away. He made sure not to look back, in case he caught his mother giving in to the tears she'd been fighting--which would make him lose it for sure. Either that or he would steer into a wall while he wasn't looking where he was going.

Once he was out of Neothera and on the surface, he didn't weave around as much as he usually did before heading into Brimstone city. It was early evening as he rode through the busy streets and he was feeling a little hungry, so he decided to stop and grab a bite at Slingshot's before inviting himself over for the night at Modo and Ashlin's. Only as he was about to pull into the parking lot, a familiar red bike cut in front of him, forcing him to stop.

"Where've you been?" Vector asked as he tugged his helmet off. "I've been looking everywhere for you."

"Busy working," Saber replied casually.

As expected, his best friend's eyes lit up. "Well, what are you wasting time around here for?" he demanded. "Go get your stuff!"

"Already did," the sable rat-cross informed him, jerking a thumb at the bags behind him.

Vector was ecstatic and probably would have raced straight home, but Saber managed to talk him into sticking around to eat first. The evening went predictably after that; pigging out on too much food and guzzling their favorite drinks before heading to raise a ruckus in the arcade. They didn't stumble out of there until late, feeling a little fuzzy-headed from lack of sleep and too much sugar and caffeine. Both in the best of moods, they goofed around during the ride to Vector's place until, finally, they staggered inside giggling like five-year-olds and went to bed.

The small, ultra-modern home didn't have an extra bedroom, so Saber made a space for himself in the rec room, pushing empty food boxes and chip bags out of the way and making himself comfortable on the large sofa. He'd tidy up, unpack his stuff and personalize some things in the morning.

Unfortunately, morning faced him with the unpleasant job of trying to find clean dishes to eat breakfast off of. "You _do_ know how to run the dishwasher that's right over there, don't you?"

Vector blew crumbs out of the bowl he'd grabbed from the counter. "Good enough."

Saber wondered how many times he was going to wind up with food poisoning before he built up an immunity. As he rinsed the least crusty dishes he could find off in the sink, Vector snorted and said, "You can be such a girl sometimes."

Saber ignored the barb and finished rinsing before poking through a nearby cabinet. "Speaking of girls, how is--"

"She's fine," the white half-mouse responded before he could finish. "She's healing up as quick as she usually does, at least. She seemed pretty happy last time I went to see her."

The sable hybrid poured a mixture of cereal from three almost-empty boxes before coming to the table. "That's good to hear. But I was asking about Joy."

This earned him a blank stare. "Say what? You never ask about Joy--except when you want to make sure she won't be around to bug you."

Saber merely shrugged. In truth, he had seen her frequently at the freight yard since he started working there, chatting casually with his fellow workers--when she wasn't mysteriously disappearing for anywhere from a few minutes to several hours. He was pretty sure he knew where she went and what she was doing. But for the last few days he hadn't seen any sign of her. "I was just wondering. That's all."

* * *

It didn't take long for the change to start creeping into every corner of their lives--a lot quicker than Throttle thought it would. Within a month after their trip to the hospital, their living room gained a collection of things sent to them once word got around. Cards and notes of congratulations. Gag gifts from his bros. Presents from Ashlin consisting of things she could spare from the orphanage and stuff Horex had outgrown already. He came home one afternoon after joyriding with his bros to find a blue highchair tucked away in a corner of the kitchen.

Throttle's mindset was still 'wait and see.' Tamerin had gone to Malteria for another few checkups since the first one and reported that there still wasn't anything to see, other than things still seemed to be progressing normally. Throttle was content to leave it at that until they knew something more, but one morning he found his mate in the guest room with a measuring tape and a few other tools in hand. "Whatcha doing?" he asked, as she started taking measurements and other notes.

"Starting on the nursery, of course," was her casual response.

Ah. Of course. After watching quietly for a minute or two, Throttle decided to step out and go for a long ride.

* * *

Once he was working steady hours at the freight yard, Saber soon noticed subtle changes in himself. Thicker biceps, broader chest, firmer shoulders. Between him and Vector, he'd always had more muscle (much to the white half-mouse's annoyance) but these days he was showing even more definition. Feeling sore and pleased at the end of a long day, he placed the final crate on one of the many stacks before stretching and rubbing his back. He took a long drink of water, clocked out and said goodbye to his fellow workers, then zipped his vest back on and headed to his bike.

He was still a few feet away from the long row of vehicles it was parked in the middle of when he spied a familiar figure at the edge of the yard. She'd continued to keep herself scarce since the morning Saber had asked about her, and he hurried over curiously. "What's up?"

Joy had a plain t-shirt on under her denim jacket and was pulling an empty wooden wagon behind her. She didn't elaborate what it was for, or smile as she came to a stop. "It's getting kind of rough out there," she murmured in response, with a nod at the horizon. "Some of my friends had to pack up and move on. A lot of fighting going on over food and shelter right now."

Saber gave a sad nod of understanding.

"I was talking to Bow earlier," she went on.

"Bow?"

"That little sand raider I was sitting next to the other night."

"Oh. Her."

Joy's dark green eyes studied him for a moment, like she was debating whether or not she should go on. "She knows Horex's mother," she finally said, "since they're from the same faction."

Saber nodded again, having already figured as much.

"They're doing pretty badly. The don't have the same kind of resources a lot of the others do. She asked me a while back if I knew what happened to her friend's baby."

"Did you tell her?"

"I didn't name any names, but I told her that he was adopted by the sweetest mouse couple you can imagine. That he's warm and happy and goes to bed with a full belly every night."

She paused, then said, "She told me before leaving tonight that she saw his mother again. She told Bow to tell me that she's thrilled to hear it. That she knows for sure now that giving him up was the right thing to do."

Saber didn't know what to say. This kind of thing was something he had been vaguely aware of his whole life...but only vaguely. It was something that existed but wasn't something he needed to face. He had been born after the war and grew up during a time when Neothera was at its best. He never had to worry about not having enough clothes, or going to bed hungry, or not having a warm place to sleep.

People who had to live like that had always seemed far away, somehow. But after seeing with his own eyes how close they could get to mouse territory, he had to wonder now if they were even closer than that.

It made him feel strange--guilty, even. Like there was something more he could be doing right now. With a frown, he looked at Joy--only to see that while he had been thinking, she started walking away. "I need to get home and make dinner for Astrid and me," she called over her shoulder. "See you."

* * *

Another week went by, during which Throttle didn't see much of his mate. Not until they wound up reading in bed together one evening. Tam was studying a magazine with a giggling baby mouse on the cover, while he was casually flipping through a catalog listing all the latest bike models. He couldn't help noticing that Tam was dressed kind of skimpy tonight. She had on her usual band t-shirt, only it fit her figure instead of being over-sized, leaving her snug black undies exposed.

He could sense that she wasn't really focused on what she was reading, and when she suddenly tossed the magazine aside and rested her cheek on his bare arm, he recognized the unmistakable feeling that she was in the mood. "You tired, hot shot?"

"Not really," he responded.

But as she plucked the catalog out of his hand while nuzzling his throat, he found himself shying away--even though they had spent a record time apart. No intimate contact since they found out she was expecting. "Is it a good idea for us to fool around right now?"

"It's fine," Tamerin murmured, nipping at the edge of his ear. "The little one is safe and snug in his amniotic sac. A bit of external jostling won't hurt."

"I'm more worried about the internal jostling. Couldn't I, I don't know...poke him in the eye or something?"

Tamerin unexpectedly burst out laughing so hard she almost fell off the bed. "Now, we both know you're well-endowed," she said, after heaving to catch her breath, "but you're overstating your stature just a little."

"Just trying to be responsible," Throttle muttered, as she slumped against his side with a fresh peal of laughter.

Gasping for breath and wobbling, she was giggling so hard, she slid off the bed and hurried for the bedroom door. "That was so hysterical I need to pee."

"Take your time," the tan mouse called after her.

He folded his arms and pouted, his pride mildly bruised...but at least he had distracted Tam from the idea of having sex while pregnant.

There came a giggle from the bathroom. "That's what you think, hot shot."

* * *

By the time three weeks had passed since he first started his job, Saber's new life had found a pleasant rhythm. He clocked in his hours faithfully at work and goofed around with Vector on his days off. The section of the rec room he had adopted had transformed into his personal space easily; the sofa folded out into a bed, he had tidied the area around it, there was a big metal corner shelf unit that fit all his things, and his clothes were in the otherwise unused closet at the other end of the room.

As he suspected he would, he liked living in Brimstone. He liked how there were far more smells up here, stirred up by wind that combed through his hair. He liked seeing the sky overhead, and watching it brighten as the sun rose and darken after it set. And he especially liked being able to ride as hard and fast as he wanted, whenever he wanted, without having to travel all the way through winding tunnels before finally reaching the desert above first.

Living on the surface...it was hard to describe. It was just "more."

When he wasn't relaxing in his new digs, on the job, or off getting into trouble (he'd managed to follow his dad's farewell words to him for almost a week) he was sitting somewhere quiet and calling his parents. He'd called them almost every day since he moved out, yet while his mother always looked and sounded happy to hear from him, he got the feeling from all she reported that she and her sable husband were doing since he left that they were enjoying their new found time to themselves--and each other.

Saber could relate. His free time was all his own now; Vector didn't care what he did or when, so he was able to come and go as he pleased. Still, he wanted to be polite and keep the new joint household running smoothly, so he always let his housemate know his schedule beforehand.

Vector generally didn't do the same. When Saber came in from work one afternoon, the white rodent was on his way out, dressed in his usual attire of a band t-shirt and a zipper-laden denim vest. He was whistling happily to himself. "Where you heading?" the sable hybrid wondered.

"Out to eat," Vector responded, practically skipping his way over to Red Ebony. "Astrid called today to tell me that they switched her to a more flexible hand cast. She should be all healed up in another couple of weeks."

"And you're taking her out to celebrate?" Saber guessed.

"Yup."

"Am I invited?"

"Nope."

He rode away, leaving his best friend behind with a rumbling stomach.

Now that he apparently had the evening all to himself, Saber went inside and grabbed a snack in the kitchen before wandering back out. He tucked away a few candy bars in the pockets of his cargo pants along the way, in case he felt like munching on something between now and dinnertime. He had finished his hours for this week already and it was still in the middle of the afternoon, the day clear and calm--if a bit chilly.

For once he felt like walking instead of riding, wanting to enjoy the sights and sounds of the bustling city at a slow pace. The streets of Brimstone were neatly paved, constructed of a slick-looking alloy-reinforced substance in a way that created a crackle effect just below the surface. There were side streets and alleys made from a less flashy material, and the section of town he was walking through had shops and businesses of every size and surplus imaginable.

Post-war, the Martian mouse population had kept to their small, snug dwellings out of habit and for safety, but now, twenty years later, there were many other styles of homes, including apartment-like complexes that ranged from small and boxy to tall and skinny. Everything had a sleek, polished look to it--almost futuristic even to a Neotheran's eyes. Mouse technology was cutting edge.

As he strolled past a popular tattoo and piercing parlor, Saber's eyes were drawn to the busy recreational area up ahead. It was almost a mile away, but even from here you could see and hear it. There were large parks, playgrounds, swimming pools, and even a small amusement park over there now.

He was thinking about sneaking over to the amusement park and acting like a kid for a few hours while no one was looking when his ears pricked up; someone was behind him. Someone who was dragging something along with them. He turned around and saw Joy, pulling that wooden wagon he had seen her with before. Only instead of being empty like last time, there was a wrapped bundle tucked in the back corner.

"Hey," the pale-furred half-mouse greeted, her smile cheerful today. "You going someplace?"

"Not anywhere in particular. You?"

She waved a hand at the wagon behind her. "I'm on a food and clothes drive. The wet season is just around the corner."

Definitely, he thought, noting the slight nip the wind had today. There was a hint of dampness in the air, too.

Joy seemed to hesitate for a moment, lightly nibbling her bottom lip as she poked her toe against the gray sidewalk. "Care to help?" she finally asked.

Saber smiled at her. "Sure."

She practically beamed in return, and together they started down one of the plainer streets together. There were a lot of small homes here, all lined up in a row with neatly trimmed yards and carefully tended gardens. He could hear kids playing nearby as Joy went up to one of the polished doors and pressed the buzzer. A tired but content-looking female mouse answered, her hair pulled back in a messy bun and an apron around her waist. "Is it that time again already?" she said. "Hold on."

The mouse left the two of them waiting there for several minutes before returning with a box full of canned goods and a bundle of clothes tied together with string. Joy thanked her and put everything in the wagon before moving on.

She continued like that, stopping at almost every house on the street. Saber kept expecting someone to ask questions, or say they couldn't be bothered right now, but everyone greeted the young Martian with a smile, like she was no stranger to them, and handed over more food and clothes. A few even asked how her family was doing; she always answered politely, although even when someone was chatty she didn't stick around for longer than a couple of minutes.

They kept at it until the sun started to sink below the horizon. The wagon full to bulging, Joy headed toward the outskirts of town. She looked a little tired, but pleased with herself. Saber, who hadn't said very much during their little outing, found himself studying her. "How long have you been doing this?"

"A few years now, I think."

That much was obvious without asking, judging by how everyone they saw today had been so ready to help out. What amazed him was how he never knew anything about this. And while it was highly likely that no one they visited today knew exactly where or who their kind donations were going to...he did. And now that he knew, he had to marvel at how he was only just learning this.

He had known Joy his whole life...or so he had thought. Looking at her now, her expression peaceful as the wind coiled her russet hair around her face, he realized that he didn't really know her at all. It was strange, but as he looked at her, it felt like he was seeing her for the very first time.

He paused suddenly, making her stop walking and eye him questioningly. He felt silly and awkward, but he fished all the candy bars out of his pockets and crammed them wherever they would fit on the wagon. "I know they won't last long," he mumbled.

Joy's smile was warm. "But they'll make somebody happy."

Still smiling, she brushed a lock of hair away from her eyes. "Want to help me deliver all this?"

He'd left his bike at home and had to run back for it. Joy kept busy while he was gone, carefully securing the items in the wagon before tying it to the back of her bike. They had to ride slow so it wouldn't tip over along the way, but Saber didn't mind. There was something relaxing about taking a ride just after sunset. It was calming, being able to hear nothing but the hum of bike engines and the rush of the cold wind. A silver-blue world all to themselves.

They rode out a ways past the freight yard he worked at, until they reached a sandy plain dotted with a few small, temporary structures. Shoddy and made from little more than boards and tarps. Rickety crates on the ground served as chairs.

It was obvious that whoever was camping here didn't plan to stay long. A few heads poked warily out of the tents, while a number of others came hurrying forward. Saber almost expected them to pounce on the wagon, but Joy was well known here, too; they greeted her warmly and waited to be handed their portion, each one even and fair. They were sand raiders--tall and skinny ones like the smoker Saber had seen behind the freight yard, their muzzles and ears long. One of them was a female who couldn't have been much older than Joy, yet there were at least two small pups darting around her patched skirt. After Joy handed over her share, the two exchanged a warm, friendly hug.

Once the last of the provisions were distributed, the small group started gathering everything up and packing it away. They were getting ready to move on under cover of darkness, Saber realized.

As he watched them shoulder the last of their meager belongings and start off on their uncertain journey toward a hopefully better future, the sable hybrid felt something sad well up inside him. He watched until the last of them were out of sight. Joy touched his arm. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he sighed. "Just wishing I could do more."

"There's always something you can do," the pale-furred rodent said gently. "Even the small things help."

Her green eyes studied him a moment. "Next time I do something like this, want me to let you know?"

Saber met her eyes with his own brandywine ones as he smiled. "Please do."


	7. Chapter 7

Within another month, the change was done creeping into the corners of their lives and started spilling out everywhere else. Throttle couldn't go anywhere at home without being reminded of it. The rack in the bathroom was crammed with baby magazines; Tamerin's bedside table had a growing pile of prenatal care books; a small section of a kitchen cabinet was now reserved for bottles and other baby food containers--and Throttle had a strong feeling it wouldn't be long before it was a lot more than just a small section.

The nursery was coming along, too--or so he assumed, judging by how often Tam went in there to bang and hammer around. He hadn't taken a look for himself yet.

"Why not?" Modo asked him when he mentioned it over root beers with him and Vinnie at Slingshot's one afternoon.

Folding his arms and resting his elbows on the table, Throttle shrugged. "Haven't worked myself up to it yet, I guess. I know it's been over two months already, but it's still sinking in. My mind knows it, but I'm still processing the idea of being a father again."

"Don't forget, you'll be experiencing all the fun stuff you missed out on last time," Vinnie reminded him slyly.

True, the tan mouse thought...sort of. Since Michio was already ten by the time he adopted him, he'd skipped the baby and young kid stage. But he'd still gotten plenty of practice taking care of babies over the years, what with babysitting Vector, Joy, and Astrid back when they were small, and Dirk and Chloe when Jayce brought them along when he visited. Still, that was different; he had changed a diaper here, filled a bottle there, but never took care of a baby longer than a few days. This would be the first time he had this much responsibility.

Because not only was Michio an older child when he first came into his life, he was also willful and stubborn and refused to let adults do for him what he could already do for himself--unless he wanted them to, of course. He had to admit, thinking back on all the nights he had read his goat-like son to sleep brought a warm affection to his heart.

Judging by the matching dreamy expressions on their faces, Vinnie and Modo were having the same line of thought he was--but for one of them, the memories were a little less distant.

"Pretty soon you'll be changin' dirty diapers," said Modo, chin in his hands.

"And showing the little guy how to tie his shoes," added Vinnie.

"Stayin' up late singin' lullabies..."

"Spoiling her rotten with every toy you can afford..."

"Warmin' bottles on the stove..."

"Going for that special first ride..."

"Hopin' every day he says 'Da-da' even though you know it's too soon," the big gray mouse lamented with a sigh.

With a grunt, Vinnie leaned his head on his palm. "And before you know it, it's all over. You wake up one day to find their bedroom door locked and music is blaring so loud even you can't be heard. No more shoe-tying. No more special rides. No more 'read to me, Daddy'. No more 'play with me, Daddy'."

He heaved a sigh, his shoulders and ears drooping. Modo sat up straight, eye gazing into the distance. He pushed his chair back and stood. "I'm gonna head home and enjoy bein' a daddy," he said, before hurrying out.

Still drooping,Vinnie got up and went over to the bar, an empty root beer bottle in hand. "I'm going to have a few dozen more of these," he mumbled.

He parked himself on a bar stool, leaving Throttle alone at the table. Alone with his own thoughts...which was what he had been trying to avoid by coming here with his bros in the first place.

* * *

Saber came home from work to a strange sound. Like the vidphone was trilling, only muffled--as if it was buried under something. Which, as it turned out after he dug through a pile of dirty laundry in the living room, that was exactly what it was. By the time he uncovered it, the trilling stopped. Wondering what his best friend had been up to while he was gone, he tracked Vector to his bedroom, where he was lying back on his bed staring dully at the ceiling.

"My dad is insane," he declared, before Saber had a chance to say anything.

"Why take it out on the vidphone?" Saber joked.

"He calls me up out of nowhere and says, and I quote: 'It's your choice. You can either get out there and start making me some grandkids or I can come over and see if you fit in Joy's baby stroller'."

Saber muffled a snicker. "Sounds like he's having some issues right now."

Vector grunted something and reached over to switch on his stereo. Saber was tempted to jokingly mention that Joy was a much more likely candidate for making grandkids--but he'd never be heard now. Plus the whole thing was ridiculous anyway. The three of them were the same; halfbreeds. And that meant they were sterile.

He would have also made mention of the fact that he was heading out, but he was in no mood to scream, so he stepped out of his best friend's room and left their shared home quietly. If he knew, Vector might be a little surprised about where he was going--or rather, who he was going with.

He and Joy had been spending a lot of time together these last few weeks. Right after their food and clothes drive she came looking for him with more ideas how he could help out their less fortunate neighbors. And his hunch was correct; some of them were a lot closer than he first thought.

There was a lot more to it than those who were going hungry out in the desert. There were lonely patients, young and old alike, languishing in the hospital with illness. A surprise visit and a care basket always made their day. Then there were all the kids at Ashlin's orphanage, waiting to be adopted. Lonely kids who loved it when someone like Joy stopped by to read to them, or play games with them, or tuck them in bed at nap time and sing them to sleep. And then there were old, retired soldiers--proud fighters who no longer had a war to battle in or any surviving family to share their fading years with. Being able to recall their glory days to a rapt listener was something they greatly appreciated.

When Saber pulled up outside the apartment Joy shared with Astrid, the slender half-mouse announced that they were heading to the orphanage today. As she told him this, she hopped on the back of his bike and made herself comfortable. Which wasn't anything new; ever since they started helping out together, she generally left Pink Zephyr behind and rode with him. Which wasn't a big deal, but...he was kind of still adjusting to it. He'd never had a female passenger before. Being held tightly by someone with soft curves was a little distracting.

At Stardust House, Joy already had the afternoon mapped out. While Ashlin tended to the younger ones, the pale-furred Martian sat down with some of the older children and brought out a small chalkboard, some picture books, and a pile of wooden letter blocks. Saber kept busy organizing a few shelves as Joy helped her small class recite each letter of the alphabet and sound out various words. When she finished reading a short story from the picture book, Ashlin announced it was snack time and brought over a tray of cookies and juice.

"Have you ever thought about becoming a teacher?" Saber wondered, as he and Joy each nibbled a cookie.

"I have, actually. Vector's the one who'll take over Mom's garage someday--maybe I'll start working as a teacher's aide soon and then quit my job at the garage in a few years. See where things go from there."

She gave a shrug, looking thoughtful as her eyes drifted over the cheerful room they were sitting in. The brightly colored shelves, the plastic tables and chairs, the drawings done in crayon taped to the walls. "Or maybe I'll just keep working right here. Ashlin could always use an extra hand."

Saber looked over at Ashlin, who had the youngest residents settled down for their naps. She rocked a baby rat in her arms while Horex dozed in a basket at her feet. Saber looked at Joy again with a smile. "I think you fit in perfectly here."

When snack time was over Joy sat down with a different group and started going over numbers and basic math problems. Saber sat at the table with them in a plastic chair that was too small for him and lent a hand any way he could. He helped the shy ones with their figures and tried to keep the fidgety ones from getting too bored. It was a quiet, slow-paced kind of afternoon, yet by the time it was over, he felt like they'd accomplished a lot.

Come sunset, it was time for the kids to have their supper, so the two older rodents said their goodbyes and headed out. "This was nice," Saber remarked, as he and Joy walked to where he'd parked his bike.

"Not too boring for you?" Joy quipped.

"Nah. I like doing stuff like this. And I like spending time with you."

The pale-furred half-mouse stopped and gave him a funny look--like she wasn't sure what to make of what he just said. She turned and started walking again.

Saber hadn't meant for that to slip out...but now that it had, there was something he needed to know. Something that had been on his mind a lot lately. "Joy," he said, quickening his steps to match her brisk stride. "I have to ask you something."

He couldn't be positive, but he thought he saw her shoulders stiffen. "So ask me," she said, without looking at him.

As if it were that easy. He nervously clicked his incisors against his bottom teeth for a minute before he hesitantly ventured, "Do you still like me? You know...like when we were kids?"

For a second Joy slowed her pace, her steps faltering. Her head was down so low her hair hid her face. "No."

Saber felt something inside him sink. Make that plummet. "Oh."

With a huff, Joy's steps turned brisk again. "I don't _like_ you, Saber," she mumbled. "I've never _liked_ you. Not even when we were kids did I _like_ you."

Saber felt his face heat. Heat until his skin burned and his ears tingled. Hands in her jacket pockets and shoulders hunched, Joy walked faster; he hurried to catch up. When she didn't slow down, he gently snagged her elbow. "Hey."

Her small, pale peach ears were dark pink with embarrassment. She refused to meet his gaze, even as he turned her to face him. He really didn't know what to say--this was all too new to him--so he let actions speak for him. He drew her to him, slowly putting his arms around her until he was holding her close. Her posture felt stiff and her hands were at her sides...but as he passed his hand over her hair, she instantly let her head sink forward and rest on his chest.

Holding a girl was a brand new experience for him, but holding Joy...it felt natural. Almost like he'd done it before. He continued to stroke her hair, and her form slowly relaxed, until she was leaning against him. As her arms rose to hold him back, he could feel her heart thumping away in her chest. Like the rapid pounding of a drum. Her head lifted, green eyes questioning, full of hope. Smiling, Saber cupped her face and brushed his thumbs over her cheeks. Her eyebrows lifted, gaze expectant now.

"Is that it?" she asked, as he continued to touch her soft face, her hair.

Saber opened his mouth to ask what she meant...but then saw the almost teasing look in her eyes and shut it, cheeks burning. "You know you're the only girl who's ever been interested in me," he mumbled.

"Lucky me." Her smile made her eyes crinkle. "And lucky you, I've had more than one guy interested in me."

The sable hybrid felt a surprisingly sharp pang of jealousy. "How many guys?" he asked suspiciously. "And how interested?"

She shrugged. "Just a handful. My interest never went beyond mild curiosity."

"I see. And how is that lucky for me?"

Her smile turning coy, she reached up to brush back the hair hanging in his eyes. Her slender fingers trailed over his antenna-less forehead, the curve of his ear. Her hand cupped the side of his face, gently coaxing him to lean forward as she rose on tiptoe. Their muzzles brushed softly together just before her mouth covered his own, soft and warm.

'Oh,' was the last thing Saber thought before the feelings the sweet touch stirred up chased all his thoughts away. Warmth like soothing liquid spread through his veins, relaxing and exciting at the same time. Joy knew just what she was doing, keeping her kisses short and nuzzling his nose in between them, deliberately making him want more. Making him tighten his arms and cup the back of her head, stilling her and turning the teasing kiss long and firm.

Joy broke away, her breath drawing in as her eyes searched his face. Her arms went around his neck and held on tightly--like she was afraid if she let go, he'd disappear. As she pressed her face against his throat, she murmured, "I don't like you."

Saber felt himself smile. Something warm and familiar and right settled in his heart as he relaxed his hold on her, running his hand over her hair again. "I know, Joy. I know."

* * *

Throttle was taking it easy in the den a few days later when the front door buzzed. Tamerin was out of sight and felt like she was busy--probably in the nursery again--so he hopped up to answer it. "Well, hey, squirt," he greeted when he saw who was waiting outside.

Rimfire rolled his eyes and gave him a weary look.

"Sorry. Old habit."

The youngest member of their old group definitely wasn't a squirt anymore. He'd stopped growing over twenty years ago, but his chest and shoulders had become even broader since then. Held himself in a way that conveyed his level of responsibility, his station. He was the only one Throttle was close to who was still in uniform. These days he wore the refined uniform reserved for the captain of the guard, a position that garnered him higher pay and more time at home with his family. Not a bad deal at all.

Aside from the air of experience and the bigger muscles, he had also grown his two-toned hair out a few years ago. It was past his shoulders now, and while Rimfire gave credit for the change to his mate, something about the loose, careless style reminded Throttle of Stoker.

"What's up?" the older mouse wondered.

He stepped back as he spoke; Rimfire hefted the large box he was carrying as he came inside. A plush baby blanket was folded on top. "Just a few things Bev and I thought you might need. Some of it's Astrid's."

"And you have the little lady's approval to pass them on?"

The younger mouse grinned. "Wouldn't be here if I didn't."

"Just put them anywhere."

They already had a growing collection of care packages ranging from small cartons to large baskets. Rimfire took the box to the living room and set it next to the coffee table. Sensing that his mate was watching through his eyes as she finished whatever she was doing, Throttle tracked her to the bedroom. She felt partly closed off to him, but that didn't strike him as anything unusual. She had been distracted a lot lately. Always flipping through baby magazines or spending hours in the nursery, all but oblivious to the rest of the world.

When the bedroom door swished open he saw her standing in front of the dresser, peering closely at the mirror above as she fluffed the ends of her hair. Throttle stopped and stared dumbly. "What the hell did you do?"

Snorting, Tamerin turned away from the mirror and faced him. "Is that any way to talk to the mother of your child?"

"You don't _look_ like the mother of my child," Throttle said dryly.

"It's just a haircut, hot shot."

"Yeah, but..."

But it was so _short_. Textured and a little spiky in the front and on the sides, and left just long enough at the very back so the ends were visible below the tips of her earlobes. It was edgy and striking--and really kind of suited her, actually, but...

"It's so short," he said aloud, voice almost childish with disappointment.

Tamerin shrugged casually. "I'm going to be a mom soon--again. I thought it wouldn't hurt to get it out of the way."

"Your mom has three kids and she never cut her hair," Throttle pointed out.

"I'm not my mom."

"Rimfire's a dad and he let his hair grow out."

"I'm not my junior dad."

He sensed her growing impatient, and she heaved a sigh before he could say anything else. "Really, Throttle, it's just hair. I can always grow it out again later. It's no big deal."

No, Throttle realized, it wasn't. The length of her hair wasn't the issue, or what was bugging him. It was that it was another change--a change made on account of that other change, the one that hadn't even happened yet. But that oncoming change to their lives was already creating so many other changes, everything from the contents of the kitchen cabinets to how they left things out around their home.

Too many changes.

He felt his mate pull her emotions away from him--but if she was doing it because she didn't want him to feel what she was feeling, or if she was trying to block out what _he_ was feeling, he couldn't tell. But he could see by the frown in her eyes as she came over to touch his face that she was worried about him. Only she didn't tell him to relax, or to take it all one day at a time. She just silently kissed his muzzle and left the bedroom.

Throttle didn't follow her.

* * *

About two weeks went by before anyone found out that Saber and Joy were officially seeing each other. Not that they actively tried to keep it a secret. They were just taking things slow, letting the pieces fall into place naturally as they enjoyed their time together. Joy started meeting him at work, sometimes bringing him a special lunchbox or snack. Aside from the places that had become part of their normal outings, Saber went with her when she rode out to meet with her desert friends, or when a group of them had one of their secret gatherings at the back of the rail yard.

They'd had a few dates at Slingshot's, too, enjoying a quiet dinner as they talked. It was funny; they had known each other their whole lives, but there were still things they didn't know about each other. Saber didn't think he had anything special to share--not like Joy and how she helped others--but the pale-furred rodent never seemed to get tired of listening to him talk about his childhood, his life in Neothera. Like Vector, she had never seen the underground city and probably never would, so listening to vague details and getting hints of what life was like down there fascinated her.

Saber had never really given much thought to having someone in his life like this, but now that he did, he found it a surprisingly comfortable fit. So easy and natural it was almost like it--dare he say it?--was always meant to be.

Joy certainly seemed to feel positively about their growing closeness. Personally vindicated, even. Her smile was dazzling as they said goodbye outside his and Vector's place one afternoon. "Thank you for lunch," she said sweetly, as she hooked her arms around his neck.

"You're welcome. Will I be seeing you later tonight?"

She pecked his nose. "I have plans. But tomorrow I'm free; call you then?"

Saber pulled her closer and gave her a lingering kiss goodbye, letting go reluctantly afterward. She hurried to where she'd parked Pink Zephyr; he waved and watched until she was out of sight. Absently humming to himself, Saber turned and went inside. The second the door slid shut behind him something flew at him from the side and was behind him in a flash. One of his arms were twisted back while someone else's arm locked around the front of his throat.

The next thing he knew, he had been pushed over to the nearest sofa and shoved face-first onto a cushion. A knee pressed into his back as someone leaned over his shoulder until hot breath touched his ear. In contrast, the voice that spoke was chilling.

"And what exactly do you think you're doing to my baby sister?"

The obvious response of 'Nothing she doesn't want me to' popped into Saber's head, but he wisely held his tongue. He'd learned a long time ago that when Vector was getting too rough, it was best to keep his mouth shut and stay still. That way Vector was the only one who got in trouble. Saber had many a memory of Vector's mom pulling her hyper son off and sending him to his room with a swat on the butt. Saber usually ended up with a treat. A win-win situation.

But they were adults now, and there was no one else here, so it was probably time for him to start fending for himself. As soon as his best friend eased up a little, he quickly rolled over, planted a boot on his chest and shoved him to the other end of the sofa.

Vector settled back against the arm and eyed him warily. "How long has this been going on?"

Saber shrugged innocently. "A while now."

"How'd it start?"

"How do you think? She came on to me."

His boot was quickly raised again as Vector lunged, keeping him and his outstretched fingers at a safe distance. "Gimme that neck," the white half-mouse growled.

"I was kidding," said Saber, with a grunt of effort. "You know me better than that. We're taking things nice and slow."

"I don't _want_ you to take things slow," Vector informed him, hands still reaching out threateningly.

"Getting mixed signals here."

Grumbling, Vector made a snatch for and managed to snag the front of his vest; he jerked him forward until they were almost nose to nose despite the foot still planted on his chest. Saber's own knee dug uncomfortably into his breastbone. "I want you two to get married, because it'd be totally awesome if we were brothers."

Saber had to admit, the idea was appealing. Both of them.

Grunting some more, he pushed with his foot until Vector was pressed against the arm of the sofa again. "If you're okay with us being together, what's with the weirdness?"

"She's my baby sister," said Vector, as though it was obvious. "You can get married, but you can't do anything remotely resembling baby-making. It's not allowed."

"We haven't gotten that far," Saber said casually.

"Good. And since you can't have kids anyway you don't need to go that far. Ever."

Joy no doubt had a very different opinion...but Saber was happy to continue taking things slow. And happy that his best friend was okay with the two of them dating.

"So...we're still buds, then?"

Grinning suddenly, Vector leaned over and darted an arm around his neck before he could get away, ruffling his hair with his free hand. "You even gotta ask?"

* * *

By the time Tamerin had been expecting for four whole months, Throttle had almost grown used to the daily changes. To waking up and discovering that something new had popped up since the last time he looked. There was always something, somewhere. He rolled out of bed one chilly morning to find his mate parked on the futon sofa in the den, stereo quietly playing a techno tune as she sorted through a pile of what looked like cloth baby diapers.

Throttle hovered in the doorway, debating whether he should interrupt her or not. She was less than halfway through her pregnancy, but it was obvious she was already deeply immersed in it. A heck of a lot more than he was. About all he did was go with her sometimes when it was time for another checkup--and at this point, was there really anything else he needed to do?

Imeeran pregnancies took a lot longer than most. By this time a mouse or a human would be in their second trimester, and the fetus would be four or five inches long and weigh enough for the mom to start feeling it wiggle around. What Tam had inside her was still only half that size the last time she went in for a checkup, so it would be a while yet before she felt any movement.

It was still too early to learn anything significant, and until then...

Tamerin set what she was doing aside and looked up at him, eyes full of a quiet question. She knew that his thoughts were roaming today, and he was pretty sure she had already guessed what he was thinking about. But he didn't want to talk about it right now, so he merely shrugged. "Just thinking."

His gaze wandered to her hair. She was maintaining the new length, though it had already grown a little fuller in the front since she first cut it, the spiky ends slipping partly over one eye when she lowered her head. The choppy ends were shinier than the rest of her hair, putting him in mind of frost and snow. Smiling faintly, he moved closer and reached out to run his fingers through her textured bangs, making them shimmer in the soft light. "It's taking me a bit, but I think I'm getting used to you like this."

He loved her with long hair, but the current style brought attention to her cheekbones, her gorgeous eyes. Eyes that grew a little brighter as she smiled at him. "I'll grow it out again in a few years. Promise."

"Doesn't matter," he said seriously. "Either way you're still you, and either way you're still beautiful."

He cupped her face and kissed her; Tamerin grinned slyly as he straightened again. "Keep it up, hot shot, and I'm going to cancel the rest of my morning plans."

"Even after last night?"

The snow-skinned Imeeran giggled playfully as she settled back into the futon cushions. "I'm pregnant," she said simply, grabbing something from the end table. "Pregnant women need sex. Oh, and chocolate."

"I can run out and get as much of one of those things as you want, but if you keep wanting that other thing, you're going to wear me out."

His mate merely giggled again and snuggled deeper into the futon cushions. Throttle watched, not quite understanding what she was doing, as she adjusted her hold on what she had picked up, straightened the soft strand that was trailing from her hands to the basket at her feet...

Abruptly he turned for the door. "I'm going for a ride," he mumbled, before hurrying outside.

He jumped on his bike and rode straight to Slingshot's. The rat himself was behind the bar this morning, chatting with a pair of mice at the far end. Throttle claimed a stool at the other end and hunched forward, elbows resting on the lava stone counter as he folded his arms. Slingshot noticed him and, with a nod to the other mice, made his way briskly over. He automatically reached for and placed a bottle of root beer on the counter; Throttle shook his head. "Something stronger, please."

The brown rat looked at him like he'd just grown a second tail. Slowly, eyes fixed on him like he was waiting for him to change his mind, he exchanged the root beer for the mildest alcohol in the house and filled half a shot glass. Throttle took a sip and coughed a little in response to the burning in his throat. "Thanks."

Slingshot was still studying him, perplexed. "Want to talk about it?"

"I'm sure you've heard about enough problems."

This earned him a grin. "Well, when I first took over this place," the lanky rodent said, as he casually passed a rag over the pristine bar, "my predecessor's last and truest words to me were that I was about to become a really good listener. Comes with the job."

Throttle started to take another sip, then decided against it. He pushed the unfinished glass away and rested his folded arms on the counter again. "It's Tam."

"Woman trouble, you mean?"

The tan mouse shrugged. "Not the normal kind."

Slingshot's pointed ears twitched. "That bad, huh?" he said, clearly curious as he kept busy by arranging glasses.

Still in disbelief over what he just saw, Throttle gave his head a shake. "She was knitting."

The bartender stopped and looked blankly at him. "Excuse me?"

"You know..."

Throttle mimicked the repetitious movements for a second. "Knitting. With yarn and needles and stuff."

"I know what knitting is," said Slingshot, eyebrow cocked. "What I don't know is what the problem is."

"It's not a problem exactly. It's just...weird."

"Weird how?" the dark-furred rat wondered. "She's pregnant, ain't she? Pregnant women do stuff like that."

"Not Tam," Throttle insisted tiredly. "She's not like most women. She's a badass. She was a respected military leader. She battled in a war that lasted almost thirty years. She was a scout who explored potentially dangerous planets for information and resources. She's a fighter and a survivor and--"

"And now she's retired, and taking it easy at home like any mommy-to-be," Slingshot finished. "Doesn't she deserve that?"

Stifling a sigh, Throttle propped his chin in his hands. Obviously the underdweller wasn't grasping the big picture. "And she keeps wanting sex," he went on glumly.

Slingshot went blank again. "Sex," he repeated.

"Pregnancy sex," the tan mouse confirmed. "Lots of it."

The lean rodent slowly folded his arms, eyes downcast. "So, you've got a beautiful woman who keeps wanting to have sex with you." He gave his head a shake like he couldn't believe it. "Any other problems? Feeling too popular? Too much money in your pockets? C'mon, man, you gotta let me help you!"

Throttle could see he wasn't getting a whole lot of sympathy today, so he pushed his chair back with a roll of his eyes and absently tossed a coin on the bar. "Thanks anyway."

As he was heading for the door, Slingshot called after to him. "You want my advice?"

The father-to-be paused and looked back. Slingshot met his gaze levelly, expression serious. "Don't go making something out of nothing."


	8. Chapter 8

Saber blew warm air on his chilled hands. From his bike, he watched as Joy scanned the empty sandy plain they had ridden out to, hand on one hip and a frown on her face. Slung over her shoulder was a heavy thermal case. "Any sign of them?" he asked.

"No," she called back in dismay. "I don't know where they could be, they know they're supposed to meet me here today."

She continued to scan the horizon, searching for any hint of movement or life in the distance. Saber was keeping an eye on the sky...which wasn't looking very friendly right now. It had taken years for it to happen, but bringing so much water to Mars had triggered several natural occurrences thought extinct--like rainfall. Nowadays, it was routine for this time of year to become Mars' wet season. Generally there was only a small drizzle here and there, and up in the mountains there was snow sometimes, but right now the sky could burst open at any moment, drenching the ground with inches of water and creating mudslides and other problems.

Not to mention it was cold, the nightly temperatures dropping to some of the lowest of the entire year. Saber blew on his hands again before stuffing them into the pockets of his lined, hooded windbreaker. "Doesn't look like they're going to show up," he noted, shoulders hunching as cold wind nipped at his ears.

Joy drooped in disappointment, but she didn't hesitate as she hurried to mount his bike, case of supplies still slung over her shoulder. "I wonder what happened to them?" she said.

Saber merely shrugged as he put his helmet on and started the engine; his slender passenger twisted in her seat, taking one last look for signs of the sand raider faction they had come all this way to deliver rations to. Saber took off for home--just as the sky opened up.

The only warning was the dark day turning even darker, and then it was like a million buckets of water had been dumped out all at once. The rain fell in heavy sheets so thick Saber could barely see a handful of feet in front of his face, and within an instant his ears were filled with a rushing, roaring sound. He vaguely heard Joy let out a squeak--the rain was _freezing_ \--as she yanked her hood up over her helmet to keep the rain from going down her neck; he fumbled to do the same. There wasn't anything he could do now except hang on and steer as carefully as he could. Visibility only got worse as the minutes went by, and it seemed like only seconds before the sandy ground started to turn soupy.

Staying here and waiting it out was out of the question. Their jackets were thick, but it only took minutes for them to become soaked through. Going fast was too risky, so the best Saber could do was apply as much speed as he dared and hope they didn't wipe out in the growing mud. Joy clung to him for dear life.

The sable hybrid found himself wishing that she had brought Pink Zephyr. An AI would be great about now; they could have scrunched onto the smaller bike together and let her steer, and come back for his bike later.

And then he saw lights in the hazy distance, and his heart sighed in relief. He applied just a little more speed and was soon entering the relative shelter of Brimstone. The rain was doing its work here, too; as he wove carefully through the soggy streets he caught glimpses of movement as sandbags were dragged out and other precautions were taken as the water level continued to rise.

"So, where to, pretty lady?" Saber said jokingly, teeth chattering as he shouted in order to be heard. "Your place or mine?"

Joy stretched a shivering hand over his shoulder and pointed. "Go there, it's closer."

Worked for him. Slowing down carefully so the tires didn't slip, he pulled up outside a residence he knew well, parking in the nearby community garage. It was already pretty full; he squeezed in next to a blue bike who hummed and blinked her headlights in friendly greeting. Saber patted her seat before putting an arm around Joy and ducking back out into the rain.

They were both soaked and shivering and didn't wait for permission to go in after Saber briefly pressed the buzzer. The two drenched rodents darted into the wonderfully warm, cozy home, where they stood dripping and shivering on the doormat. The owners came to see what was going on; they stopped to look in surprise (and mild amusement) at their unexpected guests. Modo's mouth quirked. "I'll go warm some cider," he said, turning for the kitchen.

Ashlin adjusted her hold on Horex. "I'll get some towels."

She hurried away and was soon back, passing each of the chilled hybrids a plush bath towel. "Thanks," mumbled Saber, teeth still chattering.

The golden-furred rat-cross smiled casually and bounced Horex on her hip. Her dark eyes drifted to Joy, who was leaning against Saber's side as she dried the ends of her hair. "When did this happen?" Ashlin wondered.

"Whaddya mean?" the sable hybrid asked innocently.

Ashlin smirked at him in a way that said he wasn't fooling anybody. Smirking in return, he shrugged and continued drying off. "When I was in the womb, I guess. She found out my mom was having a boy and yelled 'I call dibs!'"

Joy let out a tired laugh and elbowed him. Ashlin's smile was warm as she took a step back, like she was taking a good look at the two of them. The two of them together. "I think it's great."

"And about time, right?" Saber quipped.

"You said it, not me," noted Joy casually.

He playfully elbowed her back; she grinned and stuck out her tongue. They continued drying off until their towels were saturated, and Ashlin told them to go change out of their wet clothes. A few minutes later they were parked on the couch together, dressed in plush bathrobes and wrapped in a warm blanket as they sipped hot cider. Saber soon felt warm and snug and pleasantly sleepy. Joy cuddled her head on his shoulder.

Modo, who was standing nearby and watching them with a look of knowing amusement, grinned suddenly. "Well now. Don't this just look right as rain."

Joy beamed with pleasure, but Saber wrinkled his nose. "Do me a favor? Don't mention rain right now."

* * *

Throttle woke up the next morning to the sound of raindrops hitting the windows above his head. It wasn't as heavy as when it first started falling yesterday, but he could tell by the thrum of it that it was just as steady and probably wouldn't let up for days. Their home was protected so no actual water seeped in, but nothing stopped the dampness from settling into the air. His nose and antennas felt uncomfortably cold as he rolled over onto his back with a dull groan.

Eyes still closed, he kept the covers securely tugged up to his muzzle, trying to cling to every scrap of warmth he could. He felt funny. And it was more than just the cold. Color spots were swirling behind his closed lids and there was a weird fluttering in his chest. For a second he felt so lightheaded he thought he was going to float right off the bed.

And then the feeling passed and he found himself sitting partway up, head so clear he couldn't be sure if he'd just been lightheaded or if it had been part of a fading dream. He sat up the rest of the way, still clinging to the covers and wishing he hadn't gone to bed shirtless. Lifelong habits were hard to break.

Nose suddenly twitching, he turned his head and looked at his mate, who was sitting up beside him with a steaming soup mug in her hands. Unaffected by the cold, she was dressed like she always dressed for bed. The sight of her bare white legs made him shiver. "What are you eating?" Throttle asked, nose twitching again.

"Don't worry, your breakfast is in the kitchen," said Tamerin, stirring the contents of her soup mug. "Freshly brewed coffee and a pile of extra spicy chili dogs."

She smiled affectionately. "I figured it'd help with the cold."

"That's sweet of you, but that doesn't answer my question about what _you're_ eating."

That broth smelled suspicious.

Tamerin slipped a spoonful into her mouth before, with a sigh of resignation, she admitted, "It's cheese soup."

Throttle had been afraid of that. "You can't feed cheese to a mouse," he protested. "It's just not right."

"I'm not feeding it to a mouse, I'm feeding it to _me_."

"Same thing. It might not look like it once it's born, but you're still carrying a half-mouse. Now gimme."

He was only goofing--mostly--but as he whisked the mug away from her and reached for the spoon her eyes suddenly flooded with tears. Inside, it felt like he'd just broken her heart. "You don't have to be so mean," she sniffled, nose already turning pink.

"I was kidding," Throttle said hastily, " _kidding_! Don't do that--oh, come on. Here."

He scooted closer and fed his pouting mate the rest of the smelly broth, one spoonful at a time. Tamerin swallowed each one down between moist sniffles. Pregnancy mood swings, we have liftoff.

When the soup was drained, Throttle set the mug aside and drew the snow-skinned Imeeran into his arms. "You know you're the most precious thing in the universe to me," he murmured, cuddling his cheek against her short hair. "Even when you've got cheese breath."

Tamerin poked him with another sniffle, but at the same time he felt warm affection swell in her heart. Smiling, he held her closer and stroked her hair, the room filling with nothing but the sound of the falling rain. It was nice, he decided. It was nice to sit and think about nothing for a change. To not listen to chatter about pregnancy or babies, or anything at all.

He continued to sit in silence, rocking his beloved mate so slightly he was barely aware he was doing it. He kept petting her hair, occasionally touching a kiss to her cheek. It happened so gradually, he didn't notice until the wall had been completely erected between them that Tam had been reeling her emotions away from him. When he looked at her face her eyes were closed, her form so still he thought she might have fallen asleep.

Either that or she was enjoying letting everything go, too. Even if it was only for a few minutes.

All too soon her eyes opened and she pulled away from his arms. "Back to work," she said absently.

"Already? We don't have to be at the garage for hours."

"I meant in the nursery."

Oh. Right.

"You can go for a ride, if you want," she said, as she grabbed and pulled on a pair of sleek black pants. Throttle watched sadly. It wouldn't be long before the latex would have to be retired for the time being.

Shivering suddenly, he lay back down and pulled the covers to his chin. "Think I'll stay here," he mumbled, "and hibernate till the weather dries up again."

* * *

"So sorry I have to cancel," said Joy.

Saber pouted at her image in the vidphone screen. "Are you sure you can't make it?" he pleaded, putting on his very best melt-your-girlfriend's-heart puppy-dog face.

The pretty rodent frowned sadly, clearly disappointed to have to break their date, but he could tell by the look in her eyes that there was no changing her mind. "I'll make it up to you as soon as I can--promise. But right now I have some things to take care of that just can't wait."

She didn't say exactly what these urgent things were...but he knew her well enough to figure out what they were anyway. She was still trying to get supplies out to her sand raider friends and was starting to get sick with worry over not being able to get in touch with any of them.

"Go on without me," she suggested. "Astrid left a little while ago to have dinner with Vector at Slingshot's, so they should still be there. You go ahead and have fun."

"As the third wheel?" Saber asked dryly.

Joy laughed like she didn't know what he meant. "Don't be silly, I'm sure they'll be happy to see you. I've got to go now, okay?"

She said a quick goodbye; Saber closed the vidphone with a sigh. It had been raining for days already with only the occasional break--but that didn't mean he didn't still need to work. Most of his jobs had been moved indoors for safety's sake, but there was still a lot of lifting and moving that could only be done outside. Even wearing the heavy slicker Torque had issued to all the rail yard workers, at the end of the day he was soaked and chilled to the bone.

So it was pretty disappointing to warm up with a hot shower and get ready to go out only to find he had nowhere to go. It felt like a shame to get all dressed up just to stay in, so in the end he decided to head over to Slingshot's anyway. It wouldn't hurt to say hi even if extra company wasn't wanted.

Despite the efforts to keep things from flooding, certain sections of road were under inches of water. The steady pelting of rain against soil was creating mud splatters on everything, giving the city a grimy, dirty look. As it was every year, cleanup was going to be a pain once this was finally over. When he arrived at Slingshot's the popular bar and grill was uncommonly empty, with only the most bold and loyal of customers braving the weather tonight. A group of regulars were lined up at the bar; Saber made his way to the back, where a familiar figure was sitting alone. She looked up from the glass of warm milk she was sipping and smiled as he came over to her table.

"Did Vector run off and leave you alone?" Saber asked jokingly...but also seriously, since his best friend was a hard one to pin down most of the time.

Laughing softly, Astrid stirred her drink with her good hand before taking another sip. "Sort of. As soon as he finished eating he went into the arcade. I know how rowdy it can get in there, so...I thought I'd relax out here for a while."

Saber gave a quiet nod of understanding. His eyes drifted over to her left wrist, which was now wrapped in a stretchy cloth brace he knew she'd be discarding before too much longer. That was the one positive thing about each of her breaks. Even fragile half-Imeerans healed fast.

He rocked on his heels a moment, then said teasingly, "Hope he remembered his half of the check."

Astrid lifted her silver eyes with a look of surprise. "Vector? He always pays for everything. Won't even let me leave a tip."

The same Vector who always forgot his wallet whenever he and Saber went someplace together?

The violet-skinned girl smiled to herself and took another sip before looking up at him again. "I'm really happy for you," she said softly. "For you and Joy, I mean."

Saber grinned and glanced down at his boots, ears warming with pleasure. "She talks about you all the time," Astrid went on. "Lately more than usual," she added slyly.

His ears turned warmer. "She has only good things to say, I hope."

"You kidding? I don't think I've ever seen her happier. She sings in the shower and everything."

His ears were just plain hot now. "Oh, come on," he mumbled, looking down again.

"I'm serious. She really cares about you."

Saber smiled in spite of himself. "I know. I care about her, too."

He was about to say more, but just then someone tapped his shoulder. Before he had a chance to turn around he was trapped in a headlock. "Whaddya doin' out here gabbing for?" Vector demanded, as he yanked his best friend away from the table. "You. Me. Arcade. Now."

"I didn't eat yet," Saber objected.

"Eat later. It's epic battle time."

Saber was more than a little tempted to remind the pushy rodent how much more muscle he'd put on since starting his job at the rail yard...but because there was a chance a certain someone might wind up hurt thanks to their scuffling, he gave in with a sigh and let himself be tugged across the room. As Vector let go and shoved him through the arcade doorway, the sable rat-cross looked back at the table in the corner.

Astrid was watching the two of them with an apologetic smile. "I'll order something for you while you're gone," she called.

"Thanks," said Saber. "You're a doll."

* * *

The wet season had become a rough time for Mars. Not that the planet's inhabitants couldn't handle it; they were used to harsh conditions. Used to the surface of their home being dry and barren and stripped clean of anything good. To not having enough moisture to keep vegetation growing or thirst quenched. It really wasn't all that long ago that no one would have believed they'd ever have enough water to live comfortably again, let alone get yearly rainfall.

It didn't start until a few years after the pure H2O donated from Malteria really settled in, and aquatic life thrived in lakes and ponds and new plants grew along riverbeds. The first time was like a dream. The citizens of Mars were going about their daily lives when raindrops suddenly started to fall, soft as dust motes. Traffic stopped. Mice dropped what they were doing and ran outside. Bewildered eyes stared up at the heavens.

The historic event quickly turned into a party. Adults changed back into kids, kicking their shoes off and splashing in puddles. Couples danced together. People started singing, or running around laughing with their heads tipped back and their mouths open. The crazier ones stripped their clothes off and played in the mud.

It was a celebration that extended far beyond mouse territory--the entire planet joined in. Everyone forgot themselves, forgot who they hated, forgot what had been. For one brief moment everything else was tossed aside and a moment that was joyous for everyone was shared by all.

In the beginning rainfall was fairly light and didn't happen all that regularly. As the years went by, occasional night drizzles became more and more common. Rain that lasted for several days eventually followed. It was about fifteen years after the first rain that the period that became known as Mars' wet season finally began.

The degree of severity varied from year to year, and it brought local citizens to an unexpected realization: you could have too much water. Sometimes the heavy rains lasted for up to a week before finally easing off, forcing them to develop precautions and safety measures. Crops needed to be protected, homes reinforced to prevent leakage. Low areas were prone to mudslides and flooding.

It wasn't that bad this year, and after only a few days the rain lightened to a gentle drizzle that took frequent breaks. But it was still more than wet enough to make certain mice feel like their bones were never going to dry out again, that the smell of drowned soil and thriving mold couldn't go away fast enough. With an unhappy grumble, Throttle tugged the covers over his head as he woke up one morning to the sound of rain hissing outside like steam. "I'm ready for the dry season," he groused.

Someone chuckled throatily next to him. Grumbling wordlessly, Throttle wiggled around under the covers in his thick fleece pajamas until he was lying on his side, facing the pillow beside his own. Tam was lying with her arms folded beneath her cheek, one hip turned so she wasn't lying directly on her belly. The sight of her bare shoulders slipping out from the covers made him wrinkle his forehead suspiciously.

"What are you wearing?"

"Nothing," his mate said casually.

"That's what I thought."

He knew the chilly dampness didn't bother her, but he still felt tempted to reach over and tug the covers up. Aware of his gaze on her exposed skin, she lifted her toned shoulders slightly as she drew in her breath and let it out slowly. Inside she felt relaxed and peaceful--and a little bit playful. "I got a new tattoo the other day."

"Again?" sighed Throttle--even though he was used to this by now. Ever since they first met Tamerin had been getting tattoos only to remove them a few months later once she got tired of them, as casually as some girls colored their hair or nails. He always thought the ink she came home with was worth keeping, but she stubbornly kept erasing it and starting fresh when he wasn't looking.

"What'd you get this time?" he asked...though he could immediately tell by her sly grin and the boost to the playful feeling that she wasn't going to say.

"I could tell you, but it's much more fun when you look for it yourself."

Throttle couldn't argue that. With deliberate slowness, he snaked a hand out from the covers and peeled the blanket back from his mate's shoulders. He didn't see anything on her upper back, so he continued to pull the blanket down farther, farther...until he'd exposed her bare, shapely bottom. Just below and a little to the left of her hipbone was a small symbol drawn in black ink. A symbol he was very, very familiar with. A symbol that had been inked on his shoulder for many years.

"I know I've said this before, but _this_ is the best tattoo you've ever gotten."

Tamerin grinned, pleased that he approved. Throttle traced the black tattoo, striking against her snowy skin. Already perfectly healed like it had always been part of her. He continued tracing with his fingertips; Tamerin shivered suddenly, her skin prickling. It was so easy, he thought distantly as he traced on, running his fingers over the curve of her hipbone, nuzzling the small of her back. So easy to get caught up quickly in a moment like this, being able to feel the one he loved growing excited like he could. It was something that always escalated in a hurry for them both.

He nudged her to turn on her back before kissing her hip, her middle, working his way upward. When he reached her mouth her eyes were compliant, yet wary. "Pregnancy sex," she reminded him, as he brushed his mouth against her soft lips.

Throttle felt himself smirk as he put his arms around her and drew her to him. "I'm over it."


	9. Chapter 9

As the wet season drew to a close, over a month after it first began, Saber started keeping vigilant watch. He kept a sharp eye out when he was at work, watching as the sky slowly brightened from the oily color it'd been for the last few weeks. In the afternoon it started turning a pale violet as the dense rain clouds began to thin, while sunrises began to look like their usual hazy pink again.

When the afternoon sky returned to its normal caramel-butterscotch color and the only rain that fell was gentler than the fine mist diligent gardeners sprayed their most delicate vegetation with, he knew it was time. He made sure he finished clocking in his hours early this week and took off, heading away from civilization and across the still moist countryside.

He didn't set off on his little journey alone. Joy had been watching for the same signs and ended up inviting herself along--just like old times, he'd commented with a grin. He was grateful for the company; this mission promised to be a boring one, just like every other year he'd attempted it.

Mars' most fertile terrain bore a wide variety of foliage and colors. Dark emerald trees, rich purple shrubs and bushes, golden and red plants, shaggy clumps of violet grass. With Joy close at his side on Pink Zephyr, Saber rode across the uneven ground, moving up small hills and down through shallow valleys as he headed straight for the isolated area just below a small mountain in the distance.

Getting there took a while, and once they reached the primary destination they were out there a good while longer. Winding alongside the mountain was one of Mars' biggest rivers, with many smaller brooks and streams branching off from it. Guessing which watery path the object he was out here looking for was going to float down was as impossible as guessing when it would happen. The only guideline he or anyone else had to go by was that it only showed up at the very end of the wet season. You could get here just before, days too soon, or right after it was already gone. Either way it was usually a couple of days before you gave up and went home empty-handed.

"You know something?" Saber said with a sigh. "I told myself last year I was never doing this again."

Joy, who was riding a few paces behind him and searching in the opposite direction with a pair of binoculars, didn't respond. She had a different reason for being out here, though he knew she thought it was sweet that he was going through all this trouble--plus it gave them a chance to spend some time together, uninterrupted. When Joy wasn't busy searching with her binoculars, the two of them were sharing and laughing over old memories from when they were small. Saber could recall many a sleepover Joy had gleefully crashed.

There was no trace of humor on the pale half-mouse's face as she lowered her binoculars with a heavy sigh. She was trying not to let it show, but Saber could tell she was more worried about her friends than ever. As far as he knew she still hadn't been able to get in contact with any of them--or even with anyone she wasn't friends with, just to tentatively ask what was happening out there. Out beyond territory that was considered safe. Out where there were signs that things were getting increasingly hostile between certain factions.

They had been hunting since yesterday and neither of them saw any hint of what they were searching for. The only thing Saber saw besides birds and insects and small animals coming to the water to drink were a handful of other bikers following the river and streams. Silly bikers who were on the same frivolous mission he was.

Joy suddenly picked up speed until she was keeping pace with him. "Did you say something?"

The sable hybrid smiled tiredly. "Just that I can't believe I'm really out here chasing after a flower."

"Not just any flower," Joy reminded him with a grin.

No. They were hunting for the rarest flower on Mars: the Birah flower. It was a relatively new species, cropping up unexpectedly after the first rainfall, years ago. Though many curious botanists had tried to find out more, no one had been able to figure out exactly where it grew. It was so rare some didn't believe it actually existed, but the stories persisted; as the wet season faded and the weather started to warm again, a mysterious flower would be seen floating down the river. Some claimed to have gotten close enough to touch it--or even pick it up--but most of the time it disappeared from sight as quickly as it came.

Since the stories always reported it floating downriver, the theory was that it grew up in the mountains somewhere, then dropped loose when it was in full bloom and landed in a stream that eventually met the river. No one knew for sure, but even those who weren't convinced a flower that was only seen once a year actually existed came scavenging for it, just for fun.

Saber knew it was real, having seen one once after someone from the lab Michio worked at managed to fish it out for study. It wasn't anything all that special as far as flowers went...but it was awfully pretty, and that it apparently bloomed only once a year made it extra special. All the trouble it took to find one was sure to send a clear message to anyone receiving it as a token of affection.

Unfortunately, it looked like he was going to fail again this year--and this year was special, too. "Doesn't look like we're going to find it," he grumbled.

As he slowed to a stop, he didn't see any sign of anyone else around anymore. The smart ones had already given up. Sighing, he tugged his helmet off and rubbed his tired eyes for a minute. The sun was at its peak, and his stomach was starting to rumble. He checked and saw that the food he'd brought with was almost gone.

Pulling up and stopping beside him, Joy switched her helmet's visor off and shaded her eyes. "Let's split up for a bit," she suggested, pointing to where the river forked up ahead. They were pretty close to the base of the mountain now, the terrain turning uneven and rocky.

Saber shrugged and put his helmet back on. "It's worth a shot."

He could tell by the way Joy nodded that she knew that he'd already decided that if they didn't find anything by the time the rest of the food was gone, they were turning around and heading home. They rode on and separated at the fork, Joy heading to the right into a lower area while he stayed in the shadow of the mountain. The winding stream kept twisting closer to the mountain's base, until the choppy path he was on became too narrow and littered with stones for him to do anything other than leave his bike and continue on foot.

It's all worth it, he reminded himself, as he squeezed between a cluster of boulders. She's always worth it.

As he made it to the other side of the boulders the toe of his boot snagged on a jagged rock poking out of the dirt; he stumbled, lost his balance and fell on his stomach. Good thing he landed near the edge of the stream where the ground was softer and not so full of rocks.

His ears picked up the sound of Joy's bike in the distance as he started to haul himself up--and then a glint of something in the stream caught his eye and made him jerk his head up. For a second he thought he must be imagining it, that it was just a spot of sunlight reflecting off the water...but the spot was drifting closer, and he was able to make out the shape of luminous white petals, glowing like they had trapped the light of a passing moonbeam.

With a happy cry, he hastily crawled forward and made a snatch at the broad, silky blossom as it drifted by--only to have it bob out of reach of his fingers. He crawled and snatched again, and again, then gave it his all and dove for it.

He ended up slipping on his belly along the moist soil at the water's edge, and before he knew it the ground had given way and he landed in the water. Might as well make the best of it as long as I'm here, he thought dryly, as he paddled after the rapidly escaping flower. The stream was a lot deeper than he first thought and the current determinedly dragged him along. The water grew wider the farther he went, and as he closed the gap between him and the Birah flower he suddenly felt himself drop; the stream had dipped to join the river.

His head went under for a second, and as he kicked back to the surface his outstretched fingers brushed something soft and insubstantial, so airy he couldn't be sure it was real or just the bubbles pushing against his hand. When his head broke the surface he lifted his hand out of the water; creamy white petals lay nestled in his palm, glistening in the sunlight like a star.

The current tugged him on despite his victory, and it wasn't until he latched on to the roots of a bush growing along the river's edge was he able to stop. Pink Zephyr soon caught up to him, and Joy leaped down to help him up. Saber kept the hand cupping the Birah flower safely suspended up from the water as he grabbed the hand Joy held out to him with the other. With a grunt, she hauled him out of the water.

When he was on dry land again Saber took a moment to catch his breath before, nervously, he took another look at his hard won prize. He was half afraid he'd accidentally crushed it at some point, but the wide, curving petals were pristine, and dewy from the river water. The very center of the flower bore a hint of rosy pink from which delicate yellow stalks curved out, tipped with scarlet and lavender.

The sable hybrid let himself admire it and feel proud of himself for a second before slowly, carefully, he passed the flower to Joy. She cautiously cupped it in both hands as he shook his hair out and squeezed as much water out of his clothes as he could. At least it wasn't cold today, and he felt himself already starting to dry as he ran back to where he'd left his bike before riding back to Joy. She stood waiting next to Pink Zephyr, her eyes glued to the Birah flower, admiration plain.

Saber felt a twinge of guilt. "I'll, um, try to get you one next year."

The auburn-haired half-mouse smiled affectionately and kissed his damp muzzle. "Don't worry about me. I think it's a beautiful sentiment."

She kissed him again, and Saber grinned crookedly, cheeks warming, while she carefully slipped the precious blossom into a plastic container she'd brought and sealed the lid.

The ride back to Brimstone dried him off the rest of the way...though if his mother had caught him riding without his helmet just for the sake of letting the wind dry his hair, he'd have gotten an earful for sure. But thinking about it only made him smile, his heart swelling with love. He couldn't wait to ride down to Neothera.

Only as it turned out, he didn't have to. As he and Joy rode to the main part of town, planning to grab a quick change of clothes (they'd both been out since yesterday, after all) Saber suddenly caught sight of a very familiar motorcycle. It was parked near the hospital where Ashlin sometimes worked in the maternity wing--and his parents were coming out the main doors, like they'd just paid a visit.

Mom spotted the two of them and waited with a smile as they found a place to park. Saber quickly dismounted and ran to meet his parents. "I was just about to come see you," he said, as he gave his mother a quick hug.

"Coming over was your father's idea," said Mom, with a sidelong glance at her husband. "Wouldn't tell me why. Only said something about needing the room."

Dad stood behind her with his hands in his pockets, silent and stoic...though Saber recognized the subtle, pleased with himself look in his yellow eye. The look that said 'I know how to push my wife's buttons in all the right ways.'

Saber might have guessed he wasn't the only one planning to make today extra special. Feeling self-conscious, he glanced at Joy, who handed the container still in her hands to him before retreating to a polite distance, where she pretended to give Pink Zephyr a routine look over. Saber carefully popped open the container, lifted the white blossom like it was made of glass and held it out to his mother. "Happy birthday, Mom."

Eyebrows raised, Mom accepted the fragile gift curiously. "Is that a Birah flower?"

Her son glanced at his toes as he fidgeted. "Uh-huh. I know flowers aren't really your thing, but...it's kind of hard to shop for the retired general who has everything."

"Tell me about it," said Dad. Despite his words, he looked smug about something.

Smiling now, Mom lifted the luminous flower to her muzzle and pulled in an appreciative breath. "It smells wonderful. Isn't this that flower that only comes floating down the river once a year?"

Saber merely shrugged and grinned, feeling bashful as some of the passersby on the nearby street and the walk in front of the hospital paused with knowing smiles. A few girls stopped and whispered excitedly, correctly guessing what his mother was holding. With her free hand, Mom pulled him into a close hug. "You smell like river water," she noted wryly.

His ears warmed a little, but the attention they were starting to draw didn't stop him from resting his head on his mother's shoulder and hugging her tight. "It was worth it."

Mom was quiet for a long moment, her fingers slowly stroking the back of his head. "You know," she said in a soft voice, "it's a good thing I decided to keep you an only child."

"Because you were worried a second kid might do something even worse than kick a hole through your womb and try to come out backwards?" her son cracked.

"No--well, yes, that was part of it."

With a chuckle, Mom hugged him tighter. "But I was thinking that you'd be an awfully hard act to follow."

"Tell me about it," Joy suddenly piped up, echoing his dad's words from a minute ago. As she came closer again, her eyes were on his mother. "I'd be thrilled to look half that good when _I_ turn forty-five."

Mom chuckled again as she straightened up and stepped back, hand on her son's shoulder. She looked flattered and amused...and a little suspicious. "Is she trying to butter me up for something?"

"No," Saber said lightly. "She's just being honest."

He glanced at Joy, who grinned and nodded wordlessly. Pretty much everyone else knew that they were dating now...but he hadn't broken the news to his parents just yet.

Coming closer, Dad pulled his hands out of his pockets, reached over and took the Birah flower from his wife. With a tenderness you wouldn't think his broad hands could wield, he smoothed Mom's black hair back from her face and tucked the dewy white blossom behind her ear. He cupped her chin and kissed her cheek. "I've never seen a prettier birthday girl," he told her.

"Flatterer," said Mom wryly, though her dark eyes were shining.

"Just being honest," Saber repeated, grinning.

Mom smirked at him before returning her eyes to her husband. "You ready for your present?" Dad asked.

Still smirking, his wife made an encompassing gesture. "Do you really need this much room to give it to me?"

Dad smiled silently, looking more smug than ever. He took her elbow and nudged her to turn around. The hospital had a large parking lot and an extra wide sidewalk, and an empty lot alongside the west end of the building that was generally reserved for emergency purposes. Saber followed curiously as his father led Mom over to the lot; Joy trotted at his heels. Without a word of explanation, Dad positioned his wife at a corner of the lot before turning and--of all things--lifting his lone eye skyward. Saber automatically looked up with him, wondering just what was going on.

He didn't have to wait long to find out. Less than a minute later there came the distinct rushing sound of an airborne vehicle. Aircraft were a rare sight up until only a few years ago, but now both military and civilian ships had taken to the sky once more, both for transportation and surveillance. Only a handful of them were capable of entering space, most of which were in military hands, but since the citizens of Mars were happily nurturing their home planet, few were interested in interstellar travel right now.

The sleek black-and-silver craft that suddenly shot into view wasn't a design Saber recognized. It was clearly engineered for speed and maneuverability, easily capable of the sharpest twists and turns and darting to the highest edges of the sky in an instant. Smooth as liquid, it cut through the clouds like a blade, arced to the ground and landed mere feet from where he stood, sending clothes and hair dancing and grass blades bowing. The incredible speed of it all left him breathless.

The clear hatch at the top of the slick craft popped open with a hiss, and a familiar golden brown figure stood and hopped out, neatly clearing the craft's compact, pointed wing. "She's all yours," said Nitro, as he pulled off his helmet and strode across the lot.

Dad smiled and clapped his long-time best friend on the arm with a hard but affectionate hand. Mom looked stunned. "Wait--is that for _me_? _That's_ what you two have been working on behind my back?"

The crowd that had just started to move on had quickly returned and was now growing bigger--and more impressed--by the second. Jaws dropped open in awe and fists of approval were raised. Some of them were practically drooling with envy--and Saber couldn't blame them. The aircraft, shaped like an isosceles triangle, was gorgeous. Aerodynamic curves from top to bottom and sharp edges along the sides. It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen without wheels.

Nitro cocked a grin. "Can't say the big lug doesn't know how to spoil you."

Mom was quietly gawking now, her mouth hanging slightly open. Even standing still, the craft parked in front of her looked like it was going a hundred miles an hour. "I know you're retired," said Dad, "but I also know you still like to keep an eye on things up here."

"And now you can keep better tabs than ever and have a blast at the same time," put in Nitro.

The former general was shaking her head in shock. "I can't believe you did this."

Dad's smile turned soft, his yellow eye overflowing with love as he turned her to him and tilted her face up. "Happy birthday, Boss," he whispered.

Tears sprang to Mom's eyes, even as a grin burst across her face. Ignoring the reaction this stirred from the crowd, she threw her arms around her husband's neck and kissed him. She was a lot shorter than him and her feet left the ground as he stood straight, holding her against him as he kissed her back with a passion and fervor that made Saber blush. The whoops and wolf whistles gave way to sighs and murmurs of 'awww' as the passionate kiss turned to a loving embrace.

Finally, Dad gripped Mom by the waist and set her to her feet. And with a grin and a bubbling excitement Saber hadn't seen in her in years, his mother darted to her new aircraft and hopped into the cockpit. In mere moments she was strapped in and the hatch was closed. The crowd whooped and cheered again as she took off with a deafening _whoosh_ that left a streak of white smoke in her wake.

As the crowd of rodents watched until she was out of sight before going back to their lives, humming with chatter, Joy leaned against Saber's arm. The sable hybrid couldn't help breathing a sigh of lament. "That was nice, but did you have to do it in front of my girlfriend? I'm never going to top this one as long as I live."

The pale-furred rodent stiffened, but she took his hand and squeezed it tight as the towering rat turned his attention away from the sky and focused on the two of them. His lone eye traveled over their closeness, their tightly-clasped hands. One eyebrow lifted. "Huh."

He turned and started off after Nitro, who was already heading down the street in the direction of Slingshot's. Joy blinked her green eyes once. "That's it?"

Saber put his arm around her and gave her shoulder a squeeze. "It's my dad. Of course it is."

* * *

When Tamerin reached her fifth month, she started getting noticeably excited. This was a fun time, or so Throttle had heard Imeeran mothers say. From now to month seven was when the baby grew the most and really started moving around, until the period that lasted until month nine or so where it went almost motionless for reasons still not fully understood. Imereens didn't get morning sickness as badly as most other races did, and by now it was completely gone, though the mood swings and weird food cravings were still going strong.

Tamerin kept cozy to the end of the wet season by knitting baby blankets: a crib blanket, a nursing blanket, a just because blanket. Throttle had no idea one baby needed so many blankets. The expectant mother had decided months ago that she wanted to be surprised about whether she was having a boy or a girl, and so far the clothing and toys gifted by friends and the ones she'd picked out herself were gender neutral. The blankets and booties and sweaters she knitted up were colored soft whites and pale creams and other neutrals...except for the 'just because' blanket.

Knit from yarn softer than a cloud and done in a fancy cable rib, that one had wiggling rows of crisp white and the babiest of blues...but it was mostly pink.

Tamerin was happy right now, that much Throttle could see. But there were many afternoons where he couldn't sense anything from her beyond the gentle, constant touch of her mind. He wasn't sure why she kept shutting him out--or maybe it wasn't deliberate. Maybe she was just trying, as he was, not to get too emotionally invested only to have all her hopes destroyed in the end.

Early one evening the two of them were sitting on the living room couch together, him having just come back from an afternoon of fun with his bros while she intently nibbled on...something. "What's that?" Throttle asked warily.

Whatever it was, it had a flaky crust crisscrossed with dark icing. Tam licked her sugary lips. "Chocolate," she said casually.

"Chocolate what?" he pressed.

"Chocolate cheese danish."

Sighing, Throttle sank into the couch and folded his hands on his chest. "Would it be asking too much to compromise and wash that down with a little root beer?"

"Yes. I don't like carbonated drinks."

And twenty years of living with him hadn't changed that. Jayce would always drink a few bottles with them whenever he stopped by, but Tam couldn't stand soft drinks and stubbornly stuck to her fruit juice. Once in a great while she would make an exception if she thought the occasion called for it...and if the friskiness that suddenly seeped into their bond was any indication, she was willing to make a different kind of bargain.

"How's this for a compromise: I'll drink root beer if you eat some of the cheese casserole I made last night."

"That wouldn't be compromise. That'd be unspeakable torture."

Rolling her eyes, Tamerin stuffed the last of her cheese danish into her mouth before poking him with her foot. Throttle sat still a second, deadpan, before making a snatch for her ankle and tickling the bottom of her bare foot. She'd never been very ticklish, but his snow-skinned mate still let out a squeak and squirmed away. She didn't go very far, sitting back and curling her knees to her chest on the other end of the couch, both her expression and her mood daring him to come after her.

Throttle was more than up to taking that dare. He scooted across the couch until his jeans brushed against her bare legs, which he nudged away from her chest and ran his fingers up the length of to the snug pink shorts she was wearing. Resting his hand on her hip, he leaned closer and was relieved to discover that her mouth smelled more like chocolate than anything else, though he deliberately teased her by kissing her cheek before playfully nipping at her small ear. In return she kissed his forehead, her fingers weaving into his hair as her other hand drifted across his chest.

As he continued to tease her ear with his teeth, lightly tugging at the earrings glittering along its edge, he slipped a hand under her back and brought her closer. She was only wearing a thin black halter top, one that wasn't quite long enough to completely cover her toned stomach. Although, as his gaze wandered lower, it suddenly dawned on him that her stomach wasn't as toned as it used to be. It was softening, and while it was subtle, it was definitely starting to grow rounder. Curving up from under the hem of her shirt instead of lying flat like it used to.

Of course he knew this was going to happen, had distantly been aware it had been happening for a while now, but as he straightened up and sat back he felt like it was just now sinking in. Like it was hitting him all over again. That very minute there was something growing inside his mate's belly.

He sat there like that, mutely staring--until Tamerin suddenly rose to her feet and turned away. Her emotional walls were firmly in place. "Where are you going?" he asked in surprise.

"To see Ash," she murmured.

She left the living room, and a minute or so later he heard her bike ride away. Throttle pressed a hand over his eyes and let his head drop back with a sigh. He was starting to wish he could unplug himself from this situation until it was over. Either that or finally get a definitive answer that everything was okay. But every time Tam went for a checkup it was the same story: everything _seemed_ to be normal, but there were still things the doctors couldn't say for sure. Questions that couldn't be answered till the baby was born. A year of uncertainty was a lot to take, and they had no way of knowing if a lifetime of it was going to follow.

Thinking about it made him dizzy--so dizzy the world tipped on its side for a second. When things righted again Throttle saw that the world wasn't on its side-- _he_ was. Head swimming with confusion, he pushed himself up and cautiously stood from the couch. Distantly he was aware that something was beeping, but he barely noticed as he held still and waited for the blurriness at the edge of his vision to clear.

When he could see straight again and stopped feeling like he was standing on a boat, Throttle took several tentative steps forward. The world lurched again, and a sudden pulsing in his chest left him gasping for air. He ended up stumbling and found himself slumped against the nearest wall, hand pressed to his chest as he struggled to breathe. Tamerin must be out of range of their bond already; he knew if she had felt the confusion and worry that spiked through him she would have come racing back by now.

It was several minutes before his head finally stopped swimming and the pulsing, fluttering sensation in his chest settled down. Grunting and giving his head a shake, Throttle slowly eased away from the wall. Something was still beeping, the sound faint but insistent; he took slow, cautious steps in the direction he thought the unfamiliar sound was coming from. He tracked it to the bedroom, the beeps growing louder as the door swished open.

Realization dawned as he went over to the nightstand on his side of the bed. The beeping was coming from something he had tossed in the drawer months ago and completely forgot about; now he pulled the drawer open and took out the data pad. The screen was lit up and blank except for a small black icon in the upper corner, blinking in time with the droning beeps.

The icon was shaped like a heart. Not a cute little love heart, but a reasonably accurate illustration of a real heart. Beneath the blinking icon was a line of text. _Urgent: medical attention needed immediately._

Like he didn't have enough to worry about without his artificial heart breaking down.

Sighing, Throttle dropped the data pad back into the drawer and took out the silver wrist communicator lying beside it. He didn't go to Malteria by himself much these days, so he usually didn't keep it with him. Tamerin occasionally hinted that he should get back in the habit, since it had a lot more uses than just keeping in touch. It had a built in signal that could be tracked in case something ever happened to him, but Throttle wasn't worried about getting lost or captured, so he didn't bother with it. The comlink on his bike was enough.

One short, grudgingly delivered message and one transport later, he was standing in the transport chamber just outside the Imeeran Undercity. Imeeran society had made several technological advances over the last twenty years, many of them thanks to their friendship with Mars, but the underwater city itself was mostly unchanged. As he left the transport chamber, passed through the connecting transparent tube and stepped into the city itself, the only noticeable difference between now and the very first time he set foot here were the citizens.

There were quite a few more now than there were back then, and instead of only adults in every size and color, children of all ages were seen in the glossy black streets, from infants cradled in their mother's arms to chatty teenagers. Businesses rarely changed unless something happened to the owner, so as he moved through the main part of the lower section he saw more than one familiar sight, like the place that carried data pads and the restaurant he and his bros always stopped at for hot dogs when they were here.

It was tempting to stop in to say hi and grab a quick bite, but the occasional flutter in his chest kept his feet moving, until he was heading up the front walk to the hospital. He hadn't said why he was coming when he contacted the transport operator, so when he got inside he went up to the front desk and spoke with the receptionist.

A few minutes later he was dressed in a hospital gown and lying on an exam table, while a male doctor he didn't know by name ran several scans. "It's a good thing you came in when you did," he noted, eyes on the monitor. "Your heart probably only has a few days life left in it at the most."

"Will it take long to replace it?" Throttle wondered.

"Not at all," the lime-skinned doctor said with a smile. "The surgery only takes a few hours, and after that you should rest while we monitor to make sure the new organ settles in correctly. You'll be back home by morning."

Tamerin would wonder what was up when he didn't come home tonight, but he hesitated for a few minutes before calling to tell her what was going on. He carefully assured her that he was fine, that he had gotten himself here before things deteriorated to a dangerous degree. Not wanting to get her worked up or worried right now, he spoke as lightly as he could and promised he'd be back first thing tomorrow.

Even though his mate responded just as lightly and told him to take it easy before mentioning that she had been expecting something like this to happen eventually, he could tell the idea of him being here at the hospital with a potentially life-threatening problem left her shaken. He quietly told her to stay with Ashlin until he got home before ending the conversation.

Things went fuzzy after that. The doctor wanted to operate immediately, and to prep him he was given a mild sedative before the actual anesthesia--to slow down his heart rate, the doctor explained. While completely possible, it was still a touchy operation since they couldn't just take the old heart out before putting the new one in. His entire system had to be slowed down to an almost coma-like state and hooked up to a machine that would serve as his heart while the two were switched.

That was the last part of the explanation about what was going to happen to him that Throttle heard before drifting off. He felt himself wake partly up a few times only to nod off again, and when he finally woke up enough to open his eyes, he was lying in a soft bed in a recovery room, a warm blanket pulled up to his chin. His body was heavy and his head felt foggy, and he let out a lazy yawn as he blinked at his trim surroundings.

He wasn't alone; the other bed in the room was empty, but someone was perched on the stool over by the door. Instead of the regulation gray leggings all female nurses wore under their white skirts, this one had taken advantage of the looser rules of nurse-in-training uniforms and was wearing bright aqua tights. The color matched her fingernails, which were all but a blur as her fingers expertly worked the data pad in her hand.

"Are you qualified to keep an eye on me?" Throttle wondered teasingly.

Chloe looked up with a snort. "You kidding? The monitor is doing all the work. I'm just here in case it malfunctions for some reason and the alarms don't go off the second it thinks something might be wrong with you."

"And if that happens?"

"I can scream really, really loud."

Throttle snickered before letting out another yawn. All the stress he'd been feeling yesterday had faded, dulled away by painkillers and whatever it was they'd given him to slow his heart down. He felt relaxed and lazy, and just a little bit silly. "Is your mom stopping by to make sure you're taking good care of me?"

Chloe was young and small, but she was saucy as anything and always up for a playful exchange of barbs. So it surprised him when all the humor left her pretty face and she ducked her head over her data pad. "She's busy," the nurse-in-training mumbled.

Throttle felt his own smile fade. "Is she okay?"

Chloe nodded mutely. The tan mouse thought for a moment. "How's your dad?"

"Fine," was the quiet response.

"And Dirk?"

"Fine," the petite Imeeran repeated, not looking up. "He's over at the academy."

Her fingers darted over the data pad again, making quiet beeps. Frowning now, Throttle sat up slowly. "Is there something I should know?"

Chloe lifted her aquamarine eyes and looked at him levelly. "No. It doesn't have anything to do with you."

"What doesn't?"

Huffing, Chloe hopped down from the stool. "That's confidential. I have other things to do, so if you're feeling awake now you can check yourself out. And for being a nosy patient you don't get a lollipop this time."

She scurried out of the room, and Throttle, after assessing how he felt, pushed the blanket off and got out of bed. He felt fine--so clearheaded and normal now he would never have known he'd just had surgery. A thin line shaved down the middle of his chest was the only giveaway.

He found his clothes in a nearby cabinet, folded neatly on a shelf and smelling freshly washed. He changed out of the hospital gown and left the recovery room. Planning to grab something to eat before heading home, he moved down the long hallway, keeping to one side to allow room for the nurses and doctors heading from one job to the next. He turned a corner...and paused with a frown.

Chloe was standing outside an open doorway, arms hugged to her chest as she watched what was going on inside. Even from the side, Throttle could see that she looked as sad as someone who recently turned thirteen could look without actually succumbing to tears. Wondering just what was going on, Throttle went closer; the frosty-haired girl noticed and quickly turned around, casually but blatantly blocking the doorway.

"What are you up to now?" the tan mouse asked.

"Nothing," Chloe said innocently, as she made herself as tall as she could. "I'm not up to anything. Why would I be up to anything?"

Throttle clucked his tongue. "You're as lousy a liar as everyone else in your family."

Indignant, Chloe opened her mouth to retort--and let out a yelp as he hooked his hands under her armpits and casually lifted her from the doorway and deposited her on the other side of the hall.

"You--cheating cheater," the future nurse sputtered.

"I'll buy you some ice cream later to make up for it," Throttle promised.

He knew he was being nosy...but he also knew that Chloe wouldn't be acting so suspicious unless what was going on in the next room did indeed have something to do with him, or at the very least effected him in some way. And as he took a peek inside, he felt those effects immediately.

The room was for observation, but he could tell by the way a male nurse was solemnly shutting the monitors off that observation was over. The patient lying in the bed was still alive...but it was evident he wouldn't be for much longer. Throttle instantly recognized the state the Imeeran was in. The ashy look that had settled into his normally honey-brown skin, the hollowness of his eyes and cheeks, the overall feeling that he was wasting away. The way his chest barely rose and fell as he shallowly breathed.

He also recognized the patient, even though he scarcely resembled the bright-eyed, vital being he used to be. Throttle knew him to be warm and kind-hearted and fun-loving, someone who was thoughtful and took care of his loved ones. And the reason Throttle knew him was because he was Nena's mate.

She was one of Tamerin's original charges, having come to Malteria on the same doomed ship that brought Michio and Ako. Even at that age she had been the prettiest thing, with pastel green skin and cute elf-like pointed ears and glossy black hair. Out of all the orphans she most closely resembled an Imeeran, so it was no surprise that she'd been one of the first to be adopted.

Nena had since grown into a beautiful woman, and she had mated with the male now expiring before him several years back. Tamerin continued to keep in touch with all her former charges and Throttle had gotten to know them both. He wasn't particularly close to either of them--not like Tam and Ash were--but seeing someone he knew was supposed to be brimming with life and energy lying at Death's door made his insides twist in knots.

And he didn't need to ask why he was like this. He knew all too well.

Even though he was afraid to find out--afraid he already knew the answer--Throttle asked in a quiet voice, "What happened to her?"

The nurse paused and looked at him tiredly. He looked like he was thinking about not answering, either because it was considered private or because he knew who Throttle was and how he might react, but in the end his shoulders sagged in defeat. "She was pregnant."

Exactly what he had been expecting--and dreading--to hear. His throat worked for a moment. "Go on."

"We thought everything was okay at first. Doctor Deichan was monitoring her progress particularly closely, since this was the first time an other worlder was impregnated by one of us."

Throttle nodded silently. "At first it seemed like she and the baby were doing fine," the nurse continued. "We had no idea something was wrong until it was too late. After he tried to bring her here we had to piece together what happened."

He turned to the close-to-death Imeeran in the bed. "Doctor Deichan scanned the mother for a long time before she found what went wrong. Everything still seemed fine with the fetus up until the mother perished, but then she found a second fetus."

"Nena was having twins?"

The nurse nodded. "Only the second fetus wasn't inside her womb. She was examined carefully when she first found out she was expecting to make sure her pregnancy wasn't ectopic, and since a fetus was found implanted safely in her womb it was assumed everything was all right. No one thought to look where the second fetus was found."

Throttle could only imagine how painful that must have been for sweet Nena. Bevra'd had it bad enough, but even when the placenta ruptured as Astrid was being delivered she'd survived, since Imeerans didn't bleed to death. Nena was nowhere near that hardy, and while his ears didn't want to hear, he had to know. "Where?"

At length, "In one of her ovaries. When the fetus grew too big the ovary ruptured and she started bleeding intensely. Her mate found her and tried to carry her here in time...but she died on the way."

And the shock of having the one he loved die in his arms left the Imeeran in the hospital bed literally dying before their eyes. Throttle wasn't sure just when it happened, but he had stopped breathing at some point while they were talking. In grim silence, the nurse placed a sheet over his still form. Feeling sick, Throttle turned and all but ran from the room. He almost collided with Chloe out in the hall.

As if she knew exactly what he was thinking--it was probably etched on his face--her eyes turned moist. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Yeah. So am I."


	10. Chapter 10

"I know nothing like that is happening to her," said Throttle, as he stared sightlessly into the distance. "And I know that even if it did, she'd be okay, but..."

"The thought still scares you," Bevra finished.

The pensive mouse nodded stiffly and slumped further into the couch. Bevra was sitting in front of him, perched on the edge of the sturdy metal coffee table in the middle of the sitting area. Her young daughter was listening silently in an easy chair behind her, knees curled up to her chest as she fidgeted with the hem of her pale pink skirt. Her expression was as distant as his own.

After he left the hospital he'd meant to teleport straight home...yet here he was. He'd needed to talk to someone first. Someone who understood better than anyone how he was feeling right now. Understood the uncertainty, the worry, the frustration over not knowing.

"But you're right," the scarlet-haired Imeeran told him. "Even if something like that or worse happens to her, she'll be fine. No Imeeran ever died from being pregnant."

With a scoff and a shake of her head, she stood and absently slipped her hands into the pockets of her studded jeans. "Considering how much our bodies screw us over sometimes, we're damn lucky to be able to say that."

Throttle nodded mutely again. He knew all that already. He knew that even if the absolute worst happened and his beloved mate's pregnancy ended in bloody agony, she would survive. Imeerans easily recovered from physical pain no matter how much of it they were in. What worried him most was the much deeper emotional pain they both might end up feeling before this was over. For him, it was still too soon to hope.

From across the quiet home he heard the front door open, followed by distant movement as someone shed their boots and outer clothes. "Try not to let the stress get to you," Bevra told him gently. "And don't forget that the two of you are in this together."

She gave his shoulder a squeeze before leaving the family room. A moment later Throttle heard her and Rimfire speaking in low tones. Astrid got up from her seat and came slowly around the coffee table; her silver eyes were sad as she flashed a tentative smile. "If your baby turns out like me," she asked in a small voice, "will you be really disappointed?"

Throttle felt the corners of his mouth lift. He gave his head a shake. "If our baby turns out to be like you, I'd be thrilled."

Her cheeks turned pink as she shyly ducked her head, and the tips of his antennas tingled with gentle affection before she had her emotions under control again. Smile widening, Throttle got up from the couch as his heart filled with an affection of his own. An affection that ran deeper than he could say, so instead he wordlessly touched his fingertips to Astrid's delicate shoulder, letting his feelings speak for him.

Her shy smile grew, and his antennas tingled again as she reached out and put her arms around him. As she rested her head on his middle he held her in return with as much care as he could, resting a gentle hand on her back as he drew the other over her teal hair. He didn't need to sense her emotions to know that she felt safe. And that she felt loved.

"Don't tell anyone," she whispered, as he continued to stroke her hair, "but I think you're my favorite big brother."

Grinning, Throttle hugged her closer. "And you're my favorite little sister. Always."

* * *

It was after hours at Second Chance garage, and that meant only one thing. It was time to kick back, relax...and fight over the remote. Vector wanted to watch local sports. Vector's dad wanted to watch some show that was popular back when he and his buddies were living on planet Earth, which he repeatedly remarked felt weird that it was now considered vintage TV. Vector's mom wanted them to pick something already and shut up so she could finish some paperwork.

Both hyper white rodents completely ignored her irritated command and proceeded to battle it out for control of the remote. While father and son wrestled on the rec room rug like a couple of five-year-olds scuffling in a playground sandbox, Saber calmly settled deeper into the cushions of the leather sofa. Joy cuddled against his side with her head on his shoulder, as indifferent to the pair roughhousing at their feet as he.

She looked extra pretty tonight. She'd known he was coming over after work and looked like she'd taken a long, refreshing soak in the tub before donning a flirty white dress covered in pink flowers and a pair of opaque white tights. She smelled as pretty as she looked, he noted as he lazily rubbed his cheek against her soft hair. Like a subtle mixture of berries and crushed blossoms.

He tightened the arm he had around her waist as he nuzzled her temple, subtly inhaling the sweet fragrance in her red-brown hair. Joy responded by lifting her face, smiling as she tickled the tip of her nose against his. Mindful that her parents were in the room, he kissed her soft cheek, her downy muzzle. Her smile deepened, her eyes glowing with affection as she drew a hand over his hair, playfully twirling the ends with her fingers.

All of a sudden he felt something clamp down on his tail, and before he knew it he had been violently yanked off the sofa to the hard rec room floor. The jarring impact rattled his teeth. Growling, Vector pounced on his chest and tried to wrestle him into a choke-hold. "No macking on my sister," he ordered.

"I didn't hear her complaining," Saber pointed out casually.

He regretted his flippant words a second later as Vinnie elbowed his son out of the way and took over trying to strangle him. Fortunately, the ever competitive half-mouse didn't like anyone butting in and shoved back, and before long the two of them were playfully scuffling again. And even though the pair was practically rolling on top of him, Saber, being an underdweller, was able to sneak cleanly away.

Slipping out a side door, he stood quietly in the empty yard for a few minutes, scattered boxes of discarded parts and other pieces of scrap his only company. As he knew she would, Joy tracked down him a little while later. The quiet of the twilight-kissed yard remained undisturbed as the two of them enjoyed what they knew was a fleeting moment alone together to the fullest.

When they finally broke apart for air, Joy said, "See you tomorrow after work?"

Saber nodded and kissed her cinnamon-colored nose. "My hours are almost filled for this week, so come by early. I'll take you out to dinner."

A romantic evening, just the two of them. Heart warming, he pulled her close again and kissed her deeply before finally letting go. Joy went discreetly back inside, while Saber hung out in the yard for just a little longer before heading for the door. As soon as he stepped across the threshold he was pulled into a headlock, his face pressing uncomfortably close to his best friend's armpit. After a long, sweaty workday, Vector needed a shower.

"You're not getting away that easy," he smirked, as he tugged the sable hybrid back to the rec room.

The next day was business as usual, following the basic routine of rising early, showering before work and being one of the first to clock in. As promised, he was finished for the week and ready to go home by mid-afternoon. While he waited for Joy, Saber stuck around the busy main yard for a few minutes, chatting with several of his fellow workers who were on break along with his boss. "You're dating that little cutie who likes to drop by here, right?" asked a smallish mouse named Pagan.

"Uh-huh," said Saber, with a shy smile.

Grinning, Torque nudged him. "Nice job. She's great."

"She is. She definitely is."

The more time they spent together, the more he came to realize that. Feeling anxious to start their evening out together, he moved to the edge of the yard and kept his eyes on the horizon, waiting for a glimpse of a certain pink-and-white bike.

But it never came--not from that side. Not from the direction of Brimstone City, where Joy usually came to the yard from. He was still waiting when his ears suddenly picked up the familiar sound of Pink Zephyr's engine somewhere at the far end of the yard. Curious, he turned around and hurried southward. He was still a ways off when the engine cut. After that...things got confused in a hurry.

The south end of the rail yard was buzzing. Mice who were supposed to be working were standing around murmuring to each other and exchanging puzzled, worried glances. At the center of everything was Joy, who was stumbling away from Pink Zephyr, out of breath and clearly stricken. She kept pointing to the south and pleading for help.

Saber ran to her and tried to calm her down enough to get an explanation out of her, but it was no use. She was frantic and almost wild with worry and the most he could coax from her was that there had been an attack out by the south ridge. That was enough to spur most of the concerned bystanders into motion...although there was a moment where more than one mouse took a long, wary pause when they realized that they were being asked to help a faction of sand raiders who had been attacked while meeting a small faction of surface rats.

Some raced off anyway. Others hesitated until Joy's begging cries prodded them into motion. Rodents and vehicles rushed out to the ridge, with Joy in the lead and Saber trying to keep pace beside her. Looking back later, the time from when they arrived at the ridge until they moved all the injured they could to Brimstone City was a foggy blur in Saber's mind. He remembered a lot of smoke, the flicker of flames, frightened cries of pain, wails of anguish as survivors mourned the loved ones they just lost.

They did the only thing they could think of and took them all to the hospital. This was the first time since the grand building's construction that beings other than fellow mice and underdweller rats had set a toe inside, and they were met with more hesitation at the door. But it soon gave way as compassion and doctor's instinct took over, and the most severely wounded were rushed off on stretchers while those with lesser injuries were taken to be bandaged up. Saber recognized most of them, having gotten familiar with their faces from the times he joined Joy for an after-dark meeting or a ration delivery.

When everything finally settled down and fell quiet, the two of them sat alone in a waiting room together, neither of them speaking as they clung to the other's hand tightly. Joy was too shaken to talk; Saber tried to comfort her as best he could, soothingly stroking her hair or putting his arm around her from time to time. Her eyes remained fixed on the wall opposite them, the rigidness of her posture not changing until a doctor entered the room. She bolted up and breathlessly asked if everyone was okay.

Saber had only gotten a glimpse of the overall damage, but it was enough that it didn't surprise him when the doctor solemnly read off the names of the ones who were banged up but fine, the ones who were in bad shape but would heal in time...and the ones who didn't make it.

He recognized several of the names on the final list, including little sand raider Bow. When the final name was read and the doctor left with a quiet apology, Joy spun around and collapsed in Saber's arms with sobs that racked her small body. The sable hybrid didn't try to say anything. He just held her as tightly as he could and let her pour it all out, his heart aching right along with hers as she cried. He hadn't known any of them as well as she did, but losing them still hurt. Under different circumstances he would have become friends with many of them--good friends.

"I tried," Joy sobbed as she clung to him, her whole form quivering with emotion. "I tried so hard. They all deserved better than they got and I tried as hard as I could to help them."

All of a sudden Saber found himself remembering something from a long time ago, something that happened when he was still small. He remembered his mother holding Ashlin the same way he was holding Joy now, consoling her as she cried like he had never seen someone cry before. He had been too young to fully understand at the time, but he remembered hearing later what had happened to make his mother's best friend fall apart like that. Her main job back then was taking care of expectant mothers at the hospital and lending a hand in the delivery room. One day something had gone wrong and the small half-rat had battled alongside a group of doctors and nurses for hours to save the life of a mouse and her unborn baby. They all did everything they possibly could but in the end both lives were lost. And Ashlin had gone home and broken down in a way he hadn't seen since.

Hugging Joy close and tight to his chest, Saber found himself echoing the words he heard his mother speak that day. "You can't save all of them."

And strangely, Joy responded with the same words Ashlin said to his mother. "I know. And that's why it hurts so much."

* * *

It'd been a long time since all of them got together like this. He, his bros and their spouses, his ex and hers. They were all sitting around at Modo's, absently nibbling on the snacks Ashlin had set out as they discussed the scene at the hospital today. The only one who wasn't in low spirits was baby Horex, who was happily creeping along on his pudgy belly and cooing to himself.

Tamerin would've been here with them, but she'd had another checkup scheduled today and Throttle'd talked her out of canceling. She was almost halfway along now and he wanted to spare her from any stress he could.

Ashlin was shaking her head sadly. "I just wish there was something more we could do."

"Why is it whenever someone else has a problem we're the ones who have to fix it?" Vinnie wanted to know.

"Because we can," said Poison simply.

He spoke in his usual tone: firm and low, with just a hint of underlying danger that made most hesitate before trying to argue with him. But Vinnie never hesitated, least of all over arguing with someone. "What's this 'we' stuff? I don't remember any underdwellers doing much to help out up here."

Carbine shot him a look and started to say something, but her husband quieted her with a broad hand on her arm. The yellow gaze he fixed the bristling white mouse with was calm, yet hard. "It was years before you knew we existed, but even though you never saw us we were there just the same."

Taking his meaning, Vinnie shut his mouth and sank back in his seat. Charley moved closer to him and squeezed his hand. Her tired eyes were apologetic. "He didn't mean it," she said softly. "We're just frustrated right now. Joy's never been this upset."

Throttle nodded silently, his grim expression mirrored by the others. They could imagine what it was like for the poor girl to watch helplessly as her broken friends were rushed off by doctors only to learn it was too late to save them. They could imagine it all too easily.

"I'm just annoyed I didn't spot what was going on with my new birthday toy," Carbine remarked.

"These people have become desert nomads living under threat of attack over what little they have," her husband reminded her. "They're learning how to go unseen when they're on the move."

"I agree with Ashlin," said Charley. "I think we should try to help."

"What else can we do?" asked Vinnie--with a distinct edge in his voice. He hadn't said anything about it yet, but Throttle could tell his longtime friend was upset that his only daughter had been venturing out into dangerous territory without either him or Charley knowing a thing about it. Her heart was in the right place, but she'd no doubt put her own life at risk more than once...although he didn't believe there was a person in this room who had any business telling her not to.

"We already keep water rations outside the city so anyone can get to them," Vinnie went on. "Plus there's the community garden. Just because we're helping keep those guys from going hungry doesn't mean they'll stop preying on each other."

Unfortunately he was right. For twenty years now they'd kept a constant supply of food and water just outside Brimstone so anyone could come and take what they needed. But there were still those who would rather starve than accept help from mice, and there were still those who liked taking whatever they wanted from anyone too weak to stop them. There wasn't anything mice could do that would change that.

They were all unhappy about it, and especially unhappy about what happened today--particularly Ashlin. It was a relief to her to have Horex in the room; his happy baby gibberish helped ease the tension a little, and not just for her. Smiling suddenly, she scooted out of her seat and sat down next to the cheerful ten-month-old. There were toys scattered on the plush rug; she picked up a boxy wooden train and scooted it along on its squeaky wheels, making tooting sounds as she rolled it in front of her son.

Horex ignored the train and instead grabbed a shiny toy motorcycle, which he pushed along with puttering engine noises. Undaunted, Ash continued to play with the train (to her husband's loving amusement) while their adopted son propelled both the bike and himself forward. They eventually bumped into Poison's sizable boot; Horex flashed a puppy grin, rolled out of the way with a playful giggle and crawled on.

Poison watched the little guy for a minute, expression casual...but then he turned and looked at his wife with an odd smirk, one eyebrow arching significantly. Throttle wasn't sure what kind of message he was trying to get across, but Carbine instantly stiffened. "No."

"Please?" the large rat coaxed, his smirk broadening into a grin. "One more?"

" _No_."

"Come on. Just a small one."

"That's something you of all rodents can't possibly promise," his wife muttered. "Besides, I'm past my prime."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," said Poison, as he casually gripped her slim waist with his large hands and set her on his lap. "You're every bit the goddess you were the day I married you."

While Carbine turned red and socked her husband's shoulder, Throttle watched with equal parts amusement and fascination. Once upon a time seeing his ex getting cozy with someone else made him feel weird, but now it was just funny. Watching how easily the towering rat made the former general blush was highly entertaining.

As Poison nuzzled his wife's rosy cheeks and murmured affectionately in her ear, the tan mouse relaxed in his seat and rested his head on his palm. Conversation had stalled for the time being and he gladly took the opportunity to clear his mind a little. He'd happily call a time out for a round of root beers, but since it didn't seem like they were going to take a break until they came up with a solution he had to be content with allowing his troubled thoughts to relax for a minute. He slowly coaxed everything out of his mind until the only thing left was the faint, ever-present touch of his mate's.

He felt himself start to calm a little, a smile touching his face. He was so used to it sometimes he barely noticed, but the gentle touch was always there, like a pulse beating constantly alongside his own. It gave him a sense of security like nothing else did. A warm cocoon that comforted him no matter what.

And then the whisper-soft sensation ballooned to feelings of agitation, of concern. Surprised, Throttle got up and hurried to the front door. Even before he hit the button to open it, his question about why she was here reached out to his mate. He got his answer before the door finished opening; she wanted to help in any way she could. As she stepped into the cozy home and into his waiting arms, her mood was apologetic in response to his feelings of concern. Yet at the same time she was firm.

"What happened today isn't going to keep until I'm not pregnant," she murmured, cheek pressed to his shoulder. "The effects are going to reach me whether I stay out of it or not."

Throttle didn't argue; she was right. She'd see for herself how devastated Joy was when they met at work tomorrow--if the poor girl could even bring herself to go. And Ashlin, compassionate soul that she was, felt for the ones who'd been lost and the ones mourning them even though she didn't know them, and felt for her colleagues at the hospital who'd fought and failed to save them. She wasn't going to be content until they came up with a plan.

So instead of trying to convince Tam to go home and leave it to them, he put his arm around her and returned to the living room. Vinnie had gotten up to use the bathroom at some point, and Ashlin was sitting next to Modo again, head rested on his arm. She looked tired, but she smiled when she saw Tam. With a smile of her own, the snow-skinned Imeeran bent and scooped Horex up from the rug before perching on the edge of the sofa arm.

"How goes the discussion?" she asked, before nuzzling the baby sand raider's fuzzy muzzle.

"So-so," said Charley, sounding as tired as Ashlin looked. "We all agree that something needs to be done to help the ones who're struggling the hardest. We just can't think of what."

Still smiling, Tamerin said casually, "I bet Ash has an idea."

The petite Martian looked surprised, but she didn't deny it. "There is something I'm thinking about," she murmured.

"Oh?" said Carbine.

"The orphanage," she explained. "I didn't know what was going to happen when I made it clear that it's open to everyone, but it's become a safe haven no matter what's going on out there. Sometimes mothers who've already adopted will stop in to say hi, and to just sit and talk with each other in a place where they know they won't be bothered."

Throttle quickly caught on. "So, you think we should build a place specifically for that purpose?"

Vinnie came back just then; he sat down silently, a frown on his face, as Ashlin nodded. "We're already helping supply others with food and water, but maybe it would do some good to offer shelter to those who need it, and things like bedding and free medical treatment."

The emergency today had been different--no one had time to think--but Throttle knew that there were many out there who'd be scared just to venture into their city, let alone their hospital. Some still loathed mice, while others would be too afraid of the mice that still loathed them. If some were willing to come to an orphanage open to all, then maybe they'd be willing to come seek help and treatment at a shelter that operated the same way. "I think it's a good idea," he murmured.

"Me too," said Carbine, with conviction. "I'll get the plans in motion ASAP."

"Can I ask a stupid question?" said Vinnie.

Modo looked at him, then over at Throttle, the wisecrack obvious--was he capable of asking any other kind? But the look on their bro's face kept both their mouths grimly shut.

"We've already got the community garden. Everybody knows it isn't restricted to _our_ community. What made my daughter think she needed to bring food and water out there?"

The room went quiet again. Smile gone, Tamerin held Horex closer as she gently rocked him. When Charley spoke up, she voiced what Throttle was just thinking. "Most of them don't feel comfortable going to anyone for help," she said quietly. "Others are too easy a target, trying to go that far out in the open."

Throttle had to wonder just how long Joy had been sneaking out into dangerous territory to hand out food and supplies. Judging by the troubled looks on their faces, her parents were wondering the same thing. Sighing, Vinnie put his arm around his wife and pulled her close. "If it means our only daughter will stop doing things that'll make her a target right along with them, let's do this."


	11. Chapter 11

_Fly, fly, little wing_  
_Fly beyond imagining_  
_The softest cloud, the whitest dove_  
_Upon the wind of heaven's love_  
_Past the planets and the stars_  
_Leave this lonely world of ours_  
_Escape the sorrow and the pain_  
_And fly again_  
**~Fly by Celine Dion**

"I can't tell you how much better this makes me feel," said Joy softly.

Eyes on the horizon, Saber tightened his arm around her. She settled against his side, her head coming to rest on his shoulder. They were sitting on a rocky ledge outside the city watching the sunset together, the butterscotch of the sky ablaze with gold and red as the last of the sun's rays dipped below the horizon, the remaining light a halo of white above the tips of the mountains in the distance. Over their heads the sky was already starting to deepen, with just a hint of stars peeking through.

There was a sense of peace in the air, brought on in no small part by the new shelter coming together a lot quicker than anyone thought it would. In just a few weeks an old out building that wasn't used anymore had been converted to a warm, multi-room facility. There were places to sleep, shower, a small cafeteria so guests could enjoy a hot meal, and several exam rooms. There were also security measures in place to make sure no one came by looking for trouble. Both Ashlin and his mother had played a big part in getting everything in order so fast.

So far no one had stopped in for assistance, but Joy was helping get the word out that the shelter was there for anyone who needed it. She'd made a comment earlier today that she could at least do that much. She hadn't added to this statement, but the way she'd said it told Saber that she didn't plan to head out and get as deeply involved as she once did, instead keeping close to home and doing as much as she could from here. He couldn't blame her. Nearly all her desert friends were gone now. And though she was putting on a brave smile, he knew she was still hurting inside.

Compassion and affection blooming in his heart, he pulled her just a little closer, rubbing a comforting hand up and down her arm. She cuddled against him, her muzzle nestling in the hollow of his throat. Saber gave her arm a squeeze while gliding his other hand over her hair, being as cozy with her as he pleased for a change. Not because they were alone, but because her brother wasn't paying the least bit attention.

Vector was sitting a few feet away, his back all but turned to them as he chattered with Astrid. He wasn't touching her, but he was leaning closely with his head hovering over her shoulder and talking in a low, rapid voice. Saber couldn't hear what he was saying, but Astrid let out a soft laugh from time to time. Grinning, Vector tucked a stray lock of her teal hair behind her small ear and went on talking.

Saber took full advantage of the lack of eyes on him. He shifted Joy to the side, cradling her in the crook of his arm in a way that made her head tilt back a little. With lazy eyes and a knowing smile, she nuzzled the nose he brought to hers before closing her eyes and accepting the kiss he placed on her mouth. She felt so soft, and tasted so sweet; he closed his own brandywine eyes and kissed her deeper. She responded with a teasing, velvety touch from her moist tongue that sent his pulse racing.

A sudden loud clearing of throat made them break apart and look up sheepishly. Vector was standing over them, a pert frown on his face. Astrid stood at his side, expression solemn but silver eyes dancing in amusement. Her delicate hand was clutched in the white rodent's larger one. "If you kids can behave yourselves unsupervised," Vector said coolly, "I'll be taking the little lady here home."

Joy nodded, feigning meekness. Her brother turned away with a sniff; Astrid grinned over her shoulder as they started for his bike. "See you at home," she called.

The two of them waved innocently and then watched as Vector, with the utmost care, lifted the fragile girl in his arms and sat her on Red Ebony. She snugged her thin arms around the white rodent tightly as he rode away. Saber waited until they were out of sight before returning his attention to the girl in his arms. "So," he said casually, drawing his fingers through her hair. "Where were we?"

* * *

Throttle woke up one morning to a pair of sensations. The first was a set of warm fingers stroking his hair and ears, gradually coaxing him from sleep in the most pleasant of ways. The second was a feeling of hopefulness, of quiet pleading. His sleepy eyes blinked open to find Tamerin with her head snuggled on his pillow, her nose a hair away from his. "Hey," she greeted softly, her smile almost shy.

The tan mouse yawned before reaching up and passing a drowsy hand over her shortened hair. "Hey," he echoed. The feeling of hopefulness spiked. "What's up?"

"Another checkup," said his mate, caressing his muzzle with her knuckles. "I was hoping you could go with me this time."

Had it been that long since he went with? He hadn't been paying much attention and couldn't remember. He didn't have plans for today, so he rose with a shrug before getting up to hit the bathroom. The two of them usually stopped for lunch after visiting the hospital and only had a light breakfast before grabbing fresh clothes. Throttle's own wardrobe had changed very little over the last twenty years, but in the last couple of months, Tamerin had made noticeable changes to hers. The latex pants and snug jeans had been put away in exchange for stretchier material. Her shirts had changed, too, this morning's being a pale pink sleeveless shell. Throttle noticed that after she smoothed the loose front over her growing middle, her hand lingered on her belly for a moment.

He knew that what she was carrying had been pretty active lately now that she was deep in her sixth month, but so far he hadn't felt for himself. For a second he thought she was going to ask if he wanted to, but then her eyes turned distant as she absently adjusted her top. It almost felt like an unconscious reflex on her part when he sensed a faint barrier slink up between them, dulling his awareness of her a little.

At the hospital, Throttle let his eyes and attention wander as his mate was escorted to the same exam room and underwent the same checkup she'd been getting for the past six months. At least, it was the same until he heard Tam ask for the doctor tending her to switch on the enhanced image scanner. It was sort of like an ultra enhanced, 3D version of a sonogram.

While his mate became entranced by the image that popped up on the nearby monitor, Throttle found he couldn't focus on it. His mind kept traveling back to when he came here to replace his artificial heart. To when he learned what happened to Nena, and to her mate as a result.

Tam found out about it afterward, though he hadn't been with her at the time and wasn't sure how she'd reacted to the death of one of her beloved former charges. They didn't talk about it later. He couldn't say he was sorry that they hadn't.

Tamerin let out a sudden laugh. "Why is she so rolly-polly?"

"Likes to ball up, it seems. Kind of makes it hard to see what the little one looks like."

Throttle didn't fail to notice her use of the pronoun 'she', and it wasn't the first time she'd done it. He wasn't ready to start calling what she was carrying 'she', or 'he', or anything at all. Not yet.

"You changed your mind about keeping the sex a surprise, right?" asked the doctor.

Throttle gave a start and looked at his mate, still lying back on the exam table with her eyes glued to the monitor. She had? When?

Her blue eyes were shining as she gave a nod. The doctor grinned. "It's a girl."

A smile burst across Tam's face and a feeling of soaring joy spread through her, melting away the barrier she'd put up earlier. She grappled for and squeezed her mate's hand. "A girl," she repeated, voice hushed and amazed. "Oh, Throttle, we're having a girl!"

The tan mouse nodded absently. He didn't want to, but he was picturing what poor Nena's final moments must have been like. To have what was inside her rupture part of her body and make her blood come flowing out, until there wasn't enough left to keep her heart beating. He had seen what happened to an Imeeran after losing their mate more than once, and felt to a much smaller extent what losing that bond was like himself...but he still couldn't imagine what it must be like to have the one you loved die in your arms. He never wanted to think about it. Never.

Tamerin pulled her eyes away from the monitor and looked at him. The joy on her face was gone, and the barrier was suddenly back. She let go of his hand and returned her attention to the monitor. She didn't look at or speak to him again until after the exam was over.

* * *

A few more weeks passed, during which Saber felt himself grow closer to Joy than ever. After taking a break from everything for a short time, she went back to work at her mother's garage as well as returning to her volunteer work and community service. Any way she could help out, she would, and Saber went with her whenever possible. He noticed that each time they stopped by the orphanage, she seemed to warm more and more to the idea of taking a permanent position there, and he overheard her asking Ashlin about it one afternoon.

Later that same day they went out to eat. When they went into Slingshot's they found Vector sitting up at the bar, sipping root beer and munching a bowl of chips and looking a little lonely. He perked up when he saw the two of them. "Is Astrid with you?"

Joy shook her head. "She's home resting. When I checked on her before leaving she was asleep."

Vector drooped in disappointment. "You could try calling her later," his sister suggested with a smile.

Nodding, the white rodent went back to his chips, and Joy took Saber's arm and led him to a cozy booth on the other side of the room. "Did something happen to Astrid?" the sable hybrid asked in a quiet voice after the waitress delivered their menus. He sure hoped she didn't have another broken bone.

"No, she's fine," said Joy, to his relief. "She's just tired today. She gets worn out sometimes."

"Ah."

He could imagine, fragile little thing like her. With a smile, he asked, "Do you think she'd like it if we brought her back a fruit salad?"

Joy grinned, her green eyes warm with affection. "She'd love it. You're so sweet."

* * *

"This is the only way to relax," noted Throttle, as he kicked back on a sandy hill dotted with violet grass and chugged an ice cold root beer. His bros sat on either side of him and did the same, the three of them cooling off after a long afternoon of wild desert racing and other needlessly reckless and dangerous dares and challenges. The combined sound of their bike engines and the blaring of the hardest music they could play had echoed for miles.

It had been the perfect afternoon. Just what he'd needed to let loose and forget about everything else that was happening, if only for a little while. The distraction didn't last nearly as long as he would have liked, because Modo suddenly asked, "Is she okay by herself for this long?"

"Who--Tam?" the tan mouse asked in surprise. "Sure she is. She might be seven months pregnant but she's still tough as nails."

In fact, he was pretty sure she could handle this whole situation without him. Although she wasn't due for another five months, their entire home was now baby-ready from top to bottom. Sure, she wasn't scheduled to deliver for months, and it would be months more before they had to worry about things like dangerous cabinet contents and electrical outlets, but Tam wasn't taking any chances in case what she gave birth to developed differently.

That part didn't really bother him...although he couldn't say the same about one of the other changes. Following the words 'it's a girl' there was a pink explosion. The gender-neutrality of the incoming baby things disappeared and in their place appeared pink clothes, pink diapers, pink toys, pink furniture, even pink dishes and utensils. Throttle had to admit, he found it a little nauseating.

When he saw Tam heading into the presumably finished nursery (he still hadn't taken a look) with a can of pastel pink paint in hand, he decided it was time to slip out for a long overdue day out with his bros. It had been wonderful, and he tilted his head back and drained the last of his root beer with a sigh of contentment.

The early evening tranquility was interrupted by a sudden beeping from the comlink on his bike. "Sounds like she's gettin' lonely," Modo commented wryly, as the tan mouse got up with unmasked reluctance.

"How could she?" he asked seriously. "She's got company with her every second of the day."

As he walked over to his bike, Throttle could have sworn both his bros were frowning at him. Sure he was imagining it, he reached over and hit the comlink button on the dashboard. "You need something, Tam?"

He was miles from home and far out of reach of their bond, so he couldn't feel anything from her beyond that ever present touch of her mind, hinting at connection. He didn't need their bond to recognize that her voice was hesitant and full of worry. "Can you come home?"

Images he'd rather not picture flashed through his mind. "Why?" he asked, trying not to sound as alarmed as he felt. "Is anything wrong? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," his mate responded quickly. "It's not me, it's..."

She paused for a moment, sounding unsure of what to say. "My mother just called," she told him. "She didn't say why, but she wants you and I to meet her on Malteria."

Throttle didn't know whether to feel relieved or more worried. "Did she at least say where to meet her?"

"Yes," said Tamerin, more hesitant and unsure than ever. "At the hospital."

That knot of apprehension in his stomach--the one that first formed seven months ago and always seemed ready and waiting to coil up in an instant no matter how hard he tried to get rid of it--twisted tightly with a sense of foreboding. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

His bros overheard the conversation and wordlessly rode back with him. The three of them separated in the heart of the residential district, each riding on to his own home. Throttle was still a good ways away when his mate's mind, wide open with anxiety and worry, stretched out and connected with his. His mood matched hers perfectly as he barely came to a stop before leaping off his bike and hurrying to meet her where she stood waiting outside. There was nothing to say that their emotions hadn't already, so neither of them spoke as they exchanged a brief, tight embrace, both of them hoping that their worry was unfounded.

By now, the trip to the hospital in the undercity was one they could make in their sleep, and it was only minutes later that they hurried up the front walk together. A nurse they didn't recognize was waiting for them just inside the glass doors. The look of quiet sympathy on her face didn't reassure either of them. "She's back here," the nurse said softly.

She led them through the main hallways and past familiar territory. Past the outpatient exam rooms. Past the maternity wing. Past the set of rooms full of rows of beds reserved for Imeerans in the state of deep sleep that healed injuries fatal to other species. Past Surgery, Research, cafeterias, lounges, and storage closets, until she suddenly turned and entered a room connected to a silent hallway. A small white room with low lighting and a hushed feeling to it, the sounds and activity of the rest of the hospital somehow not reaching this far.

The nurse gave a bob of her head and hurried away. Bevra was waiting inside the little room, arms folded and back straight. Her expression was carefully controlled as they crossed the threshold, but Throttle noticed a tightness around her amber eyes, a hint of redness rimming her eyelids. In all the years he'd known her he didn't believe he'd seen her shed a single tear.

Tamerin frowned, her uncertainty growing. "Mom?"

The scarlet-haired Imeeran lowered her arms to her sides as she took a step back. "Rimfire would have come with me, but...he couldn't stomach it yet."

Her eyes drifted over the two of them for a minute. It looked like she wanted to say something, but instead her straight posture sagged a little, like a sign of defeat. As she took another step, her gaze shifting behind her, Throttle noticed for the first time that the dim room held a small table--a grim surgical steel one on officious black wheels. There was a thin white sheet draped over the length of it. A sheet that showed the outline of a small body lying underneath.

Tamerin clutched at his arm, her spike of apprehension matching his own. "Mom," she said again, voice small.

Wordlessly, Bevra gripped the top edge of the sheet. With tender care she drew it down. Just enough to expose the head and shoulders of the slender, still form hidden beneath. Throttle saw violet skin, teal hair, a small nose and chin and the roundness of closed lids hiding unusually large eyes.

The sight gave him a feeling like he'd just been stabbed in the heart.

Tamerin pressed her hands over her mouth, too stunned to speak. Too stunned to even think. The feel of her heart tearing in two alongside his own almost overwhelmed him.

This couldn't be real. He'd seen his little sister just the other day and she'd been fine. Tired but smiling, her voice full of laughter and her eyes shining with life. His little sister always smiled for him. But there weren't any smiles today. No gentle laughs. Just cold, unfeeling silence in a small, unwelcoming room that smelled like death.

Eyes stinging, he swallowed tightly several times before he could speak. His voice came out thin and hoarse. "What happened?"

Bevra was bending over her tiny daughter, her touch gentle as only a mother's could be as she smoothed back Astrid's wispy hair. "It's no one's fault," she said, her words softer than he had ever heard them. "It was just her time."

Tamerin's hands shook as she slowly lowered them. Her eyes had already flooded with more tears than they could hold. "Why?" she choked out.

Her mother answered in a quiet, calm tone. She was strong and composed, tempered like iron in the presence of others, even in the face of something like this. Retired or not, she was a rock-solid leader to the end. But Throttle knew that as soon as they were gone, the mask she had on right now would disappear and the tears would flow.

"Even if they meant well by it, Rimfire and I didn't want her to grow up with every person in her life avoiding her out of fear of doing her harm. We knew that if there was worry that just getting her too excited might hurt her, no one would ever get close enough to love her. So we both decided not to make it known that she was every bit as fragile on the inside as on the outside."

She drew her white hand over her daughter's cheek, the violet of it paler than it was supposed to be. "Her organs have always been weak. Sometime in the night her little heart simply stopped beating. We brought her here as soon as Joy called us this morning, but we both knew that nothing could be done. Her body's too fragile to handle any methods they might use to try and revive her."

Throttle pictured them trying to shock her heart back into action and almost started laughing hysterically. Instead he choked his feelings back, swallowing them down and tucking them away deep inside. He told himself he'd cry later...even as he felt the stinging in his eyes worsen and his vision started to blur.

Beside him, Tamerin was trembling all over. Her hands were pressed to her middle now, her emotions jumping all over the place. She was still in shock, and in so much pain, and suddenly so afraid. So very afraid of what awaited her five months from now.

And then another emotion rose up, swelling rapidly until it overshadowed the rest: guilt. Everything might go wrong for her...but everything might go right. If everything went right, she would have a healthy, happy child. A living reminder of what her mother had just lost. If everything went right, she knew she'd be happy--she'd be so, so happy. And in this moment she didn't know if she had the right to be.

Bevra noticed the pain on her face and reached out to her. As her hand touched her daughter's, something flickered in her amber eyes. Jaw set firmly, she pulled her oldest child to her and held her tightly. "Don't you dare feel that way," she said severely. "I'm going to hurt for a long, long time--we all are. But that doesn't change what you need to do right now. And that's love that baby with all your might. You understand me?"

Tamerin managed a tiny nod before she burst into tears. Bevra coaxed her to place her head on her shoulder as Tam clung to her and sobbed. As her mother stroked her hair, she murmured, "I know you're scared right now. You both are. I understand just how you feel. Rimfire and I knew the day Astrid was born that something like this might happen. We never know how much time we have with the ones we love."

She held her stricken daughter even tighter. "But what we need to remember is that it isn't how long we're here that matters. It's how many other lives we touch before we're gone."

Throttle couldn't listen anymore. He turned away from the two of them and faced the cold metal table, though he could hardly bear to look. Other than the paleness in her cheeks there was no sign that a single thing was wrong. Astrid looked like a princess, lying there with her teal hair fanned out around her head like that. A sleeping princess waiting peacefully for someone to take her hand and whisper in her ear that it was time to wake up. He couldn't imagine it taking any more than that to get her to open her eyes.

But when he moved the sheet aside and touched her hand where it lay next to her, her fingers felt as chilled as the metal of the table. The tears he'd been fighting dampened his cheeks as he bent closer, leaning over her tiny, motionless form. Even though he knew touches couldn't hurt her anymore, he still used all the care he could as he cupped her head in his hands. Closing his moist eyes, he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"Love you, little sister," he whispered. "Always."


	12. Chapter 12

When it came to him and Vector, Saber had always been the more sensitive of the two. Of that there had never been any question. Vector had always been a grin and bear it, shrug off any pain or annoyance with a smirk and a snarky remark kind of guy. Saber couldn't remember the last time he'd so much as sniffled.

And yet here he was. Thrown across his bed and sobbing harder than Saber ever imagined he could. Even when they were kids he hadn't cried this hard. It left the sable hybrid sitting next to him feeling awkward but sympathetic. He'd never seen his lifelong bud like this and wasn't sure how to react. Should he leave him alone or try to say something?

He decided to say something first. "I understand how you feel," he ventured quietly.

"You _don't_ ," Vector told him.

The harshness of his tone took Saber by surprise. Feeling more unsure of himself than ever, he said, "She was my friend too. I know we weren't as close as the two of you were, but--"

Vector sat up. His eyelids were red-rimmed and puffy, his white face soaked and matted with tears. There was pain etched across that face, more pain than you would think someone so carefree could feel. His black eyes were like thunder. "Saber, you don't know shit."

Taken aback, Saber frowned hard. "I--"

Growling suddenly, Vector grabbed the nearest object and threw it at him, making him dodge with a yelp. "Out."

"What?"

"Pack your shit up and get out!"

"But," his best friend stammered, "I live here."

"Not anymore you don't."

Before Saber could say anything, Vector hid his face in his pillow and broke down harder than ever. Rattled to the core, Saber hurried out of the room. He doesn't mean it, he told himself, as he started grabbing his things and shoving them into a duffel bag at random. Vector just needed to cool off, or whatever it was he needed to do. For now he would grab a change of clothes and sleep somewhere else. If his best bud was serious about this...he would come back for the rest later.

Leaving Vector alone when he was in this bad a state didn't feel right to him, but he didn't know what else he could do. So, with reluctance and doubt, he left quietly and rode to Modo and Ashlin's. It was late and he felt bad about bothering them, but when he hit the buzzer Ashlin came to the door almost immediately. Almost like she'd been expecting him to come.

She hugged him tightly for a long moment, then stroked the fur of his cheek as she searched his face, her dark eyes full of understanding and compassion. Her touch was motherly and comforting, and he felt a little of the tension ease out of him. "Vector's pretty upset right now," he mumbled. "Can I stay here tonight?"

The petite Martian nodded wordlessly, kissed his face, then took his hand and led him down the hall to the guest room. She squeezed his hand before slipping away, and Saber stepped tiredly through the guest room doorway--and stopped short in surprise. The room was already occupied.

Joy was sitting at the foot of the bed, head hung down and hair tangled around her tear-matted face. There was no trace of her namesake in her teary eyes as she looked up; Saber dropped his duffel bag and held out his arms. Joy rose and all but ran to them.

She didn't cry as hard as she did that day at the hospital, but the pain she felt cut far deeper. It was so strong he could feel it burning inside her as he held her to him, making his heart sting and his throat tighten. "I couldn't go home," she sobbed. "She's not--I didn't want to be alone. I couldn't..."

Saber cupped a protective hand to the back of her head and drew her closer. "Shh," he soothed, "it's okay. I understand. You don't need to explain."

He stroked her hair, and she sank against him with a shaky exhale of breath, her strength waning. Saber lifted her and carry her over to the guest bed, where he lay her gently on the mattress and drew the quilt to her chin. He smoothed back her hair and kissed her forehead before turning to go. He had every intention of sleeping on the couch, but Joy sat partway up and grabbed his arm.

"Don't go," she pleaded. "Please, stay."

Saber hesitated only a second before nudging off his boots. He coaxed Joy to lay back down and tucked the covers around her before crossing to the other side of the bed. He stretched out on top of the quilt and draped his arm over her; she turned and pressed into him, her cheek resting against his throat. Fresh tears sprang to her eyes as she desperately hunted for comfort and solace. Saber put his arm further around her and held her close and secure, his thumb caressing her shoulder.

Gradually Joy's tears slowed and her heavy eyelids closed. She tucked her head in the crook of his neck and sniffled. "I love you, Saber."

A quiet smile touched his face before his own eyes closed. "Me too, Joy. I love you too."

* * *

Throttle had turned numb. After coming home he fully meant to let out all the tears he'd held back at the hospital and more, but now that he was lying in bed, staring silently up into the darkness, all he felt was a coldness. A coldness that seeped down into his very soul. He tried to draw an emotion out of himself--any emotion--but all he could seem to find was emptiness. An emptiness created by the loss of his precious little sister. An emptiness in his life that would never be filled.

He kept repeating Bevra's words to himself, hoping they would bring him comfort, but they did nothing against the cold void inside him. Nineteen years didn't seem like nearly long enough of a life for anyone, especially not someone like Astrid. She deserved so much more. She should have lived the longest, fullest of lives, with a husband and children and grandchildren and all the wild, crazy adventures she could stand. She should never have had to worry about shedding tears of pain just from someone bumping into her too hard.

It was all so unfair. The more he thought about it the more frustrated and agitated he became. As he grunted and tossed on his side, facing the edge of the bed, he barely noticed as Tam shifted behind him. It would be a long time before the sting of this started to fade, he thought grimly. A light had gone out in all of their lives.

Before coming home he and Tam had stopped to see Rimfire. The poor guy was barely able to say hello before he broke down in tears. He had grown strong and mature in the last twenty years, but losing his daughter was too much for the captain of the guard to cope with. As of immediately he had relieved himself of duty until he pulled himself together. In tears herself, Tam had hugged him and told him she loved him.

Throttle was in plenty of pain, but he knew that it paled in comparison to what Rimfire was feeling. He never wanted to know what that was like--to be a father who lost their child. But after today the possibility that it would become his own reality was closer--and uglier--than ever.

He didn't want that reality. He didn't want to grow to love his own child only to have it taken away. Was a short life full of pain really worth it? Right now he couldn't say he thought so. Right now, he would rather not be a father if this was his future. Right now he wished it wasn't happening. He wished it was just him and Tam, the way it was supposed to be. If only...

The mattress creaked as his mate suddenly got out of bed. Throttle didn't think anything of it, assuming she was getting up to use the bathroom. But then he noticed there was an iron wall between them, so solid he couldn't feel the faintest trace of her. And then she did the strangest thing; she locked the bedroom door on her way out.

A nameless instinct had him bolting out of bed before he fully realized what was happening, or understood why he was suddenly panicking. "Tam!" he yelled as he fumbled to unlock the door.

It wasn't to lock him in. It was only to stall him. Slow him down for a second or two. He was overtired and uncoordinated and it took him longer than just a couple of seconds to get the door open. He stumbled out into the hallway, blind in the darkness and against the wall between him and his mate. "Tam," he called again as he hurried forward. "Tam, wait!"

He heard her voice in the living room. Soft and barely audible. He didn't hear what she said, but he recognized the tone she spoke with. It was the calm and direct tone she used when she was instructing someone to transport her somewhere.

Throttle's panic spiked until his legs pumped and his mind emptied of everything except the same frantic words. _Don't go, don't go, don't go--don't leave me..._

He burst into the living room just in time to see a hazy blue-white light teleporting his mate away. In wild desperation, he dove for the fading image of the one he loved in the center of the light. He passed through empty air and landed on his chest on the hard floor, arms outstretched. His fists came down with a wordless cry before he buried his face in his hands. Silence descended, so heavy it seemed to weigh down on him, until the only thing he could hear was the pound of his own broken heart.

* * *

Saber didn't have to work the next morning and was willing to stay in with Joy as she mourned, but the teary rodent insisted that she carry on with life as usual. He understood her need for normalcy right now, as well as needing to be around her family, so after being pampered throughout breakfast by Ashlin they rode to Second Chance with Modo.

The sable hybrid stayed out of the way while the owners worked, doing the occasional odd task or running to fetch something. Mostly he kept a close eye on Joy, as did her parents. She kept herself together that day, pausing to brush tears from her eyes only a handful of times. Each time she did one of parents went over and put an arm around her, murmuring encouraging and loving words in her ear.

At lunchtime she came over and sat beside Saber, who kept an arm around her as she nibbled at the contents of her lunchbox. When she finished she rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes for a few minutes. As she did, the sable hybrid noticed both her parents watching them discreetly. They had been quiet today, their eyes full of sympathy and their own grief, but now he noticed a hint of pleased approval. Smiling, he gave Joy's shoulder a squeeze.

The day remained quiet and uneventful till closing time. There was no sign of Vector. Funny thing, there was no sign of Throttle or his mate, Tamerin, either.

* * *

Even though he knew it was a waste of time, Throttle spent the entire day searching. After picking himself up off the floor he'd run to grab his wrist communicator from the nightstand drawer--only to discover it wasn't there. Tam had known that was the first thing he'd do and moved it to buy herself more time. At first he thought she'd taken it with her, but when he returned in a daze to the living room he found it sitting out on the coffee table.

He knew she wouldn't have left it if she wasn't sure he wouldn't be able to use it to find her, but he'd tried anyway. He'd contacted the transport operator and demanded an immediate transport to Malteria--but naturally by the time he got there Tam was already gone. Although his hunch had been correct; she'd gone there first before teleporting somewhere else. No one knew where. She'd keyed in the coordinates herself and manipulated the memory so there was no log of the transport. There was also no trace of her communicator signal.

Which meant she could be anywhere in the universe and no one had any clue how to find her. Throttle did the only thing he could and went back to scour every inch of Mars. It was a long shot but there was always a chance she'd come back because she didn't think he'd look for her here. Deep down he knew he was kidding himself, but he searched anyway. He had to keep moving. It was the only way he was going to stay sane right now.

By the time the sun had set and darkness had fallen he had nothing to show for his efforts. Yet still he rode on, veering around hills and racing through ravines, until finally, more at his bike's volition than his own, he steered back into the brightly lit streets of Brimstone. It was late and night life was in full-swing. Life as usual. Life passing by like nothing had changed. No thought or care about the pair of holes that had just been ripped out of his heart.

There was no denying it. Just like his little sister, his mate was gone. She could be planets away, and probably was. Yet that whisper of a touch was still somewhere at the back of his mind, just like always. Only it wasn't a comfort anymore. It was a cruel tease. A taunting reminder of what he was supposed to have.

It was more than he could take. Leaving his bike behind, he shuffled across a full parking lot and into Slingshot's. The place was busiest at this hour and he had to elbow his way to the bar. Slingshot himself noticed and, knowing each of his regulars and their body language well, reached past the root beer and grabbed a bottle of the same stuff Throttle had sampled the last time he needed something a little stronger.

Tonight it wasn't nearly enough. Shaking his head, he shoved away the shot glass the rat passed him. "Something stronger."

Slingshot cocked a dry eyebrow; Throttle glared at him dully until he reached for another bottle. He shook his head again. "Stronger."

Both eyebrows lifted now, the bartender tried again. Again Throttle shook his head. The underdweller reached to a row of bottles on a high shelf and took down the strongest drink in the house. "Skip the glass," Throttle told him as he started pouring again.

Slingshot looked at him like he was crazy as he did what he was told, and the tan mouse couldn't blame him. He'd probably regret this later. But right now he needed to dull everything he'd been through since yesterday. He needed to block out that constant whisper of a presence that wasn't there.

He had no idea if he could. But right now he was willing to try.

* * *

Saber thought it was best if he waited a few days before seeing if he had been permanently booted out, so after having dinner with Joy and her parents, he rode back to Modo and Ashlin's for the night. Concerned about their son, Joy's parents went to check on Vector. Joy stayed with Saber, although tonight he insisted she have the guest room to herself while he took the living room couch.

Ashlin fussed over him at bedtime, coaxing him to take a long soak in the tub and handing him a warm drink when he was done. In return Saber kept Horex entertained for a few minutes while his petite mother went to see how Joy was holding up. When she came back she clicked the living room light off, took her son and kissed Saber goodnight before quietly leaving the room. Groggy from everything that had happened over the last few days, Saber closed his eyes and was asleep in minutes. The living room was just around the corner from the front door, so when someone started hitting the buzzer, it woke him with a start.

Not that it wouldn't have woken him if he'd been in another room. The entire district was probably jerking awake right now.

This wasn't his home, but for a disoriented second he wondered if he should answer it--if only to put a stop to all that racket. He sat partway up and listened as small footsteps--Ashlin, no doubt--scurried through the darkness. A muffled hissing from the direction of the bathroom said that her husband was in the shower. There was another muffled sound as the front door swished open.

The conversation that followed was exchanged in low voices, but Saber was able to make out most of it. Enough for him, as quietly as an underdweller knew how, to get up and slink down the hall to the guest room. Joy was no doubt already awake from the buzzer pounding, but he went in to check anyway. And to ask if she would mind if he stuck around till morning.

* * *

Throttle knew his loyal little lady was worried about him from the humming sound she made when he mounted her seat. He also knew he was in no shape to steer, so instead he slumped comfortably against her dashboard and let her do it. When she parked and he staggered to his feet, he saw that she hadn't brought them home. Probably thought he shouldn't be by himself right now. She was probably right.

"Good girl," he mumbled, patting her handlebars.

She hummed worriedly again as he fumbled for the closed door in front of him. It was locked--naturally, what time was it, anyway?--so he hit the buzzer. No one came at first, so he kept on hitting it. It was fun. He could hear the high-pitched sound going off inside. Buzz-buzz--buzz-buzz--bu-bu-bu-buzzzz.

Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

The front door opened and a small hand all but slapped him away. " _Throttle_?"

He cocked a grin. "Hiya."

Ashlin was gaping at him. "What are you _doing_?"

He decided to invite himself in, making the small Martian scurry back with an unhappy squeak. Something in her hand flashed. "Whazzat for?" he asked, pointing to the blaster she was holding.

"You can never be too careful," she said, tone dry.

After looking at him for a long moment, eyes full of a mixture of confusion and disbelief, she turned to put the weapon down. Throttle noticed that she was dressed for bed in a gray sleep shirt and matching undies. Boy short style. Cute.

"What are you doing here?" she asked as she faced him again.

"Tired," he said, blinking lazily. "Mind if I crash here?"

He smiled; she took a step back, nose wrinkling. "Are you drunk?"

"Nuh-uh. Only a lil mintox...intercated...toxictated..."

He hiccuped. "M'ma lil buzzed. S'all."

He brightened at his own words. Buzzed. Buzzer. Buzzers were fun. He started to turn around and reach for the front door; Ashlin let out a squawk and grabbed his wrist. "Would you cut it out?" she hissed. "Everybody's sleeping."

She said something else as she tugged him away from the door, but Throttle's head was swimming and he didn't quite make it out. His fog-filled ears picked up what he thought was movement somewhere nearby. Either that or it was the pounding behind his eyes. When he felt his legs give out as Ashlin continued to tug him, he didn't try to fight it. The petite Martian let out another squawk and tried to catch him but they both ended up tumbling to the floor.

She and Modo still lived in the old cave dwelling they'd moved into together years ago, even though this kind of housing was out of style these days. The floor was still the same hard stone it always was. Good thing he'd landed on something soft. "Yer comfy," he noted, cuddling up to her like a teddy bear.

Ashlin squirmed with a pained sound. "You're heavy--get off."

He was already starting to drift. "G'night," he said cheerfully.

"You're hurting me--get off! Get off, _please_!"

She gave him a hard shove, and he honestly tried to roll away, but his body had suddenly turned to lead. He probably would have stayed there the rest of the night if someone hadn't grabbed the back of his vest and yanked him to his feet. Clear off his feet. His toes dangled inches from the floor. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Momentarily stunned, Throttle blinked stupidly at the large gray mouse snarling at him. "You said a bad word."

"Brilliant observation, bro."

Throttle reached out and poked his dark nose. "What would yer mama say?"

Modo was actually growling at him, his bare teeth gritted so hard they squeaked. "My mama's dead. But if she were here she'd ask you the same thing."

Panting, Ashlin got to her feet. "I don't know what's going on. He just staggered in drunk."

Throttle opened his mouth to explain, but the only thing that came out was gibberish. With a scoff and a look of disgust, Modo snagged the waistband of his jeans with his other hand. The hallway bobbed and spun and seemed longer than it was supposed to be as they turned down it. Throttle started to feel sick, but he was pretty sure he put his arms out and went 'wee!' at one point.

Modo took him to the bathroom and dumped him on the floor. It wasn't until his boots had been tugged off and his vest yanked at did he realize his bro was undressing him. "Hey--inappropriate," he protested.

His struggles were ignored. When his bro had him down to his boxers, he picked him up again and shoved him into the shower stall. Some primal instinct kicked in despite the fog in his brain and he bolted for the door with a yelp, but Modo held him in place with a hard metal hand to his chest while reaching over to punch the keys of the nearby shower control panel with the other. Jaw set, he damaged the panel enough so Throttle couldn't mess with it, closed the door of the cylinder-shaped stall and determinedly held it shut as the shower head released freezing water. Throttle was pretty sure his shriek was heard in Neothera.

He babbled and pleaded to be let out, but Modo kept his hand pressed to the glass door with a stony glare. He waited until his bro was soaked to the skin and whimpering and clutching at his frozen arms as he shivered uncontrollably before finally opening the door. Throttle felt horrible, but his mind had cleared a little. Only he didn't want it to clear, because he knew if it did he'd start to think. He didn't want to think. He just wanted to sleep, and he stumbled out of the shower with a whimper that almost came out a sob. Ashlin was waiting with a towel. Sweet as ever, she wrapped it around him and starting rubbing warmth back into his icy limbs.

Even after he was dry he still shivered a little. Modo gave him a pair of pajamas that were too big for him and told him they'd talk about this in the morning. Throttle hoped he'd be sober enough by then to have that conversation. No...he hoped he never had to have that conversation. He hoped he woke up tomorrow to find this had all been a dream.


	13. Chapter 13

_I thought that I was right_  
_But I've made a big mistake_  
_I am changing myself for good_  
_Because I have understood_  
**~Face The Truth by Unsun**

When Saber opened his eyes the next morning there was a fluffy blanket pulled over him. He knew he had gone to sleep on top of the covers last night, with Joy snug underneath, just like the night before. Someone must have come by while he was asleep and tucked him in.

With a yawn and a smile, he rolled over and looked at Joy. She was still asleep, her expression peaceful as she dreamed. Her red-brown hair was a tangled mess around her small ears. Heart warming with love, Saber scooted closer and kissed the bridge of her nose. She stirred and made a hum of pleasure; grinning, he nuzzled her nose before brushing a kiss to her mouth.

When he pulled away her green eyes fluttered open. The sleepy smile she gave him was as affectionate at his own. She wiggled a hand out from the covers and stroked his muzzle with the backs of her fingers. "I like this," she said softly.

"What?" he asked, even though he was pretty sure he knew.

Her smile grew. "Being this close to you."

Her fingers continued to stroke his muzzle, her touch soft as a feather against his fur. She paused, her forehead suddenly puckering in a frown. "Is everything okay out there now?"

Saber shrugged mutely. He'd only just woken up, so he didn't know.

The crazy buzzer pounding had of course woken her up last night. When he slipped in here she'd asked him what kind of nut was at the door at that hour. Not knowing how she'd react if she knew the nut's identity, he'd mumbled that it was 'some drunk' and assured her that everything was all right.

She'd naturally been wary, but after cuddling for a few minutes she was soon relaxed and dozing off again. The quiet moment was quickly shattered when the shrieking started. Joy recognized Throttle's voice and was understandably troubled, so Saber had, with a sigh, told her the truth. Yes, it was Throttle who had stumbled in drunk. No, he didn't know why.

Her frown deepened, forehead wrinkling in concentration as she listened, but there was nothing outside the guest room except silence. "Why do you think he did that?"

Shrugging again, Saber ran a comforting hand over her arm. "Grief, I guess. Makes people do crazy things sometimes."

Joy shivered and edged closer to him, nestling her face close to the hollow of his throat. "Speaking of that..."

Saber lifted his eyebrows questioningly. Her eyes turned distant as she absently traced his muzzle with her fingertips. "I don't want to go back alone," she murmured.

"You don't have to," Saber told her, giving her shoulder a squeeze. "You don't need to go back there at all. Not till you're ready."

Joy gave her head a small shake. "I'll never be 'ready.' But I haven't been home in a couple of days. Things are going to start to get dusty, and..."

She swallowed thickly. "And I need to start boxing up Astrid's things."

Her eyes clouded; Saber quickly drew her closer to him and rested a hand on her hair. "You won't have to do that by yourself. I'll go with you, and we'll ask her parents to be there, too. We'll donate whatever we decide not to keep, have a good cry, and then..."

"And then you'll be my new roomie," Joy finished.

"Right." He gave a start. "Wait, what?"

Joy giggled and cuddled against him. "You have to," she insisted sweetly. "I've never had to live by myself before."

Saber's cheeks were heating. "I'm sure you'll be fine," he mumbled.

"I'll be even more fine with you around," the slender half-mouse said, voice almost a purr.

"Uh-huh. And what will your parents say?"

"You mean, what will they say about me giving the spare room to a boy I shared a bed with two nights in a row and he didn't try to cop a feel once? Not a whole lot, I imagine."

"Of course I didn't," he said with a frown. "You're in a vulnerable state right now. Not that I would even if you weren't."

"Of course," Joy echoed, giggling again. "But _I_ would. And I did, last night while you were sleeping."

"Did not," Saber muttered, cheeks heating some more.

"I didn't," she amended, "I'm not that kind of girl. I'd wait till you're awake first. More fun that way."

Grunting, Saber shook his head. "All joking aside, let's--hey!"

Joy laughed as he pushed her fingers away and slapped a protective hand over his bottom. "I warned you," she pointed out slyly.

Taking her hands in his, Saber let their foreheads rest together. He could tell by the pain he saw behind her green eyes that her playfulness was her way of putting on a brave face. It helped keep the tears at bay. "All joking aside, let's take care of Astrid's things before we worry about anything else. Okay?"

* * *

Throttle woke up with a headache that had him seeing spots and his stomach lurching. Disoriented and groaning loudly, he tried to roll over and shield himself from the light--and felt like that hint of presence was right at his side, close enough to touch. Eyes closed, he found himself reaching out, out...

The upside to falling off a couch and onto a hard stone floor was that the impact didn't make a whole lot of noise. Unfortunately all the pained groaning he was doing attracted attention anyway and someone came into the room before he finished picking himself up off the ground. At least he made it halfway back onto the couch, his upper body slumped over the cushions as he tried to coax his legs to follow. Hopefully he only looked halfway like an idiot.

Judging by the look Modo gave him as he came to stand over him, arms folded, probably not. Ashlin followed close behind, setting a tray with a light breakfast and a steaming cup of coffee down on the coffee table. As she sat down next to the tray, Throttle noticed she had exchanged the outfit she wore last night for a modest nightgown. He also noticed that she winced slightly as she perched on the edge of the coffee table, and she kept her back unusually straight, like it was stiff. As he forced himself into a sitting position she briefly rubbed the back of her head.

"Sorry about that," he mumbled.

"It's okay," said Ashlin, though she winced again as she touched the back of her neck.

Modo was shaking his head. "Why'd you do this to yourself, bro?"

Throttle picked up the coffee and gagged down a mouthful before he answered. "She left me."

Hearing his own words cementing what had happened was like a punch to his already sore gut. He squeezed his eyes shut for a few seconds before choking down another mouthful. Ashlin looked shocked. "Tam would never leave you."

"She did," he said hoarsely.

"She wouldn't," the small Martian repeated, sounding dumbfounded. "She _couldn't_. She needs you in her life--literally. Your love is like life's blood to her."

Throttle shook his head and sank back into the couch. "She would if it was for me. If she thought sticking around would make me miserable, she'd leave. And she did."

Ashlin stared, incredulous, a look her husband mirrored. "Why would she think that?" asked Modo.

The tan mouse couldn't blame them for their disbelief. They both knew as well as he did how attached Imeerans got to their loved ones, especially their mates. They started getting pangs of separation anxiety after only a short time apart. He could easily imagine how hurt she felt right now. How incomplete. But he knew as long as she felt like staying by him wasn't right, she wouldn't come back.

It wasn't her fault. The only one who was to blame for this was himself.

What did he think was going to happen after the way he'd acted all these months? He should have figured out a long time ago why Tam had been blocking what she was feeling from him. She knew he was trying not to get attached or get his hopes up in any way. She knew he wasn't ready to love what she was carrying. But she did--she had from day one. She'd been hiding that love so he wouldn't have to feel it, waiting patiently until he was ready to.

She could only hide so much. She couldn't block out her pregnancy until he felt like dealing with it. Yet despite how selfish he'd been her leaving was for his sake and his sake alone. Thinking about being a father only to have it taken away had hurt him, and so she'd done the only thing she could think of and took the cause of his pain away from him. Obviously, she couldn't take that away without taking herself away, too.

He needed to set this right, and he needed to do it _now_.

With a long sigh and another few gulps of coffee, he explained what led him to overdoing it last night. As expected--and deserved--both of his longtime friends were shocked at how far he'd distanced himself from his mate for the last few months. "I understand how you feel," said Modo, "but--"

"But by trying to protect myself from pain I ended up causing pain," Throttle interrupted. "I know. There's no excuse for what I've done. It doesn't matter if I'm a father for a year, ten years, or a hundred. What matters is that I'm a father and I need to act like one."

And more importantly than his friends, he needed to tell Tam that. He needed to say how sorry he was. Sighing again, he set his half-finished coffee down. "Her favorite place is Shinjuku, Tokyo, right?

Ashlin frowned in thought. "Yes--but if I were her I wouldn't go somewhere I love."

"Me either," agreed Modo. "Too obvious."

"I'm open to suggestions then," said Throttle dully.

Ashlin's frown deepened. She shrugged. "If I were trying to hide from the one I love, I'd go to a place he wouldn't think to look. A place he knows I wouldn't go not because I hate it, but because there's something there I'm bothered by. Maybe even afraid of."

Throttle stared blankly off into the distance for a minute--and then bolted up as it hit him. Of course, he thought, feeling stupid for not figuring it out sooner. It was so obvious.

"Thanks, sis," he said, giving Ashlin a quick hug. "I know exactly where to find her now."

* * *

That day was a quiet, bittersweet one. Saber didn't need to return to work just yet, and when he and Joy got to her place she called her parents to let them know she wasn't coming in either. When she told them why they dropped everything and hurried over to help. Astrid's parents were called next, and the six of them made themselves comfortable in Astrid's room and started sorting through her clothes and personal belongings.

As he predicted, the task caused a lot of tears. But there was a lot of laughter, too, each of them sharing memories and recalling stories attached to a particular item they found. Astrid had touched each of their lives in so many ways.

Joy's parents kept assuring her that she didn't have to finish today, but the pale-furred half-mouse was firm. It needed to be done and there was no point in putting it off. Saber understood. She didn't want to remove Astrid's presence, she wanted to preserve it. Treasure what she'd left behind. So none of them ever forgot.

She was too big to wear her best friend's clothes, so she and the sweet girl's parents kept the pieces they just couldn't part with and boxed the rest away to give to charity. The rest of her belongings, like books, posters, and other keepsakes, found a place in other parts of the apartment.

All in all, Astrid didn't have a whole lot of things. What she had the most of was an impressive collection of stuffed animals, amassed by her 'big brothers' who loved showering her with anything plush and cute. Joy kept a handful of dolls and, when Astrid's parents were done looking through them, suggested they donate the rest to the kids at the orphanage.

When the two agreed, Joy tentatively turned to her own parents. "Speaking of which," she began, "I've been meaning to talk to you about something."

Sensing that her daughter had something important on her mind, Charley smoothed her hair back from her furry forehead. "Go on," she prodded gently.

"I've been volunteering at the orphanage a lot lately," Joy explained. "I really enjoy working there. I asked Ashlin and she said it's all right if I take on a full-time position."

She looked imploringly from one parent to the other. "You mean, you want to quit working at the garage?" asked Vinnie.

Joy nodded. The white mouse smiled, put his hand on her shoulder and kissed her forehead. "If that's what you want to do. Whatever makes you happy."

"I'm pretty sure your brother plans to take the whole place over the second I retire anyway," Charley added wryly, as Joy happily hugged them both in turn.

Mentioning Vector made her smile fade. "I tried calling him earlier, but...no one answered."

"We saw him on our way over," said her mother. "We asked him if he wanted to help out today. He said no thanks."

Joy was frowning now. "What about tomorrow?"

Tomorrow was the funeral. Astrid's parents had already set aside the things they wanted to bring for display. Her favorite dolls, a sample of her favorite music, a lifetime of pictures they planned to make a slideshow with. Joy's auburn-haired mother shook her head sadly. "I don't know, honey. I hope so."

With a lot to prepare before tomorrow, Astrid's parents left first. Joy's own parents stuck around for a little while longer, munching on snacks Joy set out and reminiscing about days gone by. Like their daughter, they put on a brave face, but there was unmistakable sadness behind their eyes. When they finally hugged Joy goodbye and went back to work, Saber noticed that neither of them seemed concerned about leaving him alone with their little girl.

Ever since he and Joy got together there had been the occasional obligatory look of warning from her father, but beyond that there was a distinct sense of trust. It gave Saber a feeling of welcome, that the direction his life was going was right. Making Joy a part of his life was so right he couldn't remember why he'd put up so much of a struggle when he was younger. He could've enjoyed loving someone so much sooner.

As if sensing his thoughts centering around her, the object of his affection drifted up behind him and put her arms around him. Her head nestled between his shoulders. "Are you staying?"

"I'm thinking about it." Saber placed his hand over hers and gave it a squeeze. "But before I make up my mind I want to find out where things stand between me and your brother."

* * *

It was tempting to teleport straight from Modo's place, but when Throttle changed out of Modo's pajamas he noticed that his clothes (and he) didn't smell so hot, so he rode home to take a real shower and change first. Once he was clean and dry he put his communicator back on and went out to say a quick goodbye to his bike. "Don't worry, old girl," he told her with an affectionate pat, "I'm not coming back without her."

Less than a minute later he was enveloped by a blue-white light that effortlessly lifted him from the surface of Mars and deposited him on Earth. The light hadn't completely faded from his eyes when he felt the rush. Like a wave of warm water the feeling of his mate came flooding into him, until his blood pumped and his veins hummed with her. He felt her shock, followed by flashes of excitement, joy--and panic. She was both desperate and afraid for him to find her.

That was all he felt before her protective walls shot up, blocking him out again. Losing the cruelly short contact almost made him whine in disappointment, but instead he smirked. Nice try, Tam. I already know you're here. I know exactly where you are and what you're doing.

Stepping out of the shadows he'd been standing in, Throttle casually joined the bustling crowd of a place he hadn't been to in months but knew by heart: Navy Pier. It was early November in Chicago and the visitors at Pier Park were dressed in mittens, scarves, and hats while sipping from steaming Styrofoam cups and munching bags of fresh popcorn. The air was chilly and the sky was gray and a little hazy, but the atmosphere was far from dreary.

On any other day he would have taken his time and enjoyed the sights, but he had more important things to do right now. Moving quickly, he wove his way through the crowd, passing by the rides and other attractions and ignoring the enticing smells coming from the vendors and restaurants. His eyes were drawn skyward, fixing on the Pier's biggest and most visible attraction. The Ferris Wheel.

Over the last fifteen years or so Tamerin had made a lot of progress when it came to curing herself of her aeroacrophobia, but there were still a few things that made her head swim and her knees turn weak. A one hundred and fifty-foot Ferris Wheel was definitely on the list. The last time she came here with him he'd playfully asked her if she wanted to give it a try; she'd firmly said _no thank you_. She'd turned down the Wave Swinger, too, and that only stood forty feet.

Throttle had to wonder if she'd been lurking here since yesterday, and just how many times she'd ridden the Ferris Wheel. She was up there now--he confirmed it with the pair of enhanced specs he was wearing today, zooming in one lens with the tap of a button. Like she was afraid he'd spot her--or like she wasn't comfortable with what she was doing--she was sitting alone in one of the red gondolas, slumped against the side of the seat with her eyes closed and her hand pressed to her forehead. He wondered if she knew he was looking at her.

If she did, she probably didn't think he could get to her. The Ferris Wheel was stalled, the nearby operator busy talking with someone who looked like a mechanic. No one looked worried--whatever was going on would probably only take minutes to resolve. The handful of other passengers were chatting away happily as they swayed in the wind, enjoying the view. There was a crowd building on the ground below, but Throttle wasn't willing to stand around and wait with them. He wasn't going to take the chance of her slipping away from him.

As the shocked bystanders looked on, he jumped to grab onto one of the white support beams and started shimmying upward. People started exclaiming in surprise, and yelling at him to get down before he killed himself. Others egged him on with hoots and whistles of reckless approval. By the time he was high enough to reach out and make a risky leap for the spokes of the wheel itself, activity on the ground had come to a stop as the crowd watching his crazy ascent rapidly grew.

Throttle was just glad Tam was in a gondola at the upper back instead of directly overhead; otherwise he'd have had to pull himself straight up a vertical spoke. Climbing semi-horizontal spokes was dangerous enough--but was he one to shy away from danger? Never.

Ignoring the frenzied shouts below and the barks from gathering authority figures demanding him to _get down_ , he continued higher and higher, until the din on the ground started to fade away. The wind was stronger up here, the frame he was clinging to creaking in an unsettling way. Just a little farther, he coaxed himself, as he panted for breath.

He knew for sure that Tam had spotted him when he felt a spike of worried fear cut through her mental walls. "Just sit tight," he called, as he started edging along the length of the spoke leading to her gondola. "I'll be there in a second."

He didn't get a verbal response, but the feeling of _you're crazy!_ was pretty clear. Grunting, he forced his tiring muscles along the rest of the way and reached out to grab the silver safety rail on top of the gondola's door. A warm hand grabbed his and before he knew it he had been tugged over the rail and went tumbling to the reinforced floor of the swaying gondola.

Throttle lay panting for a minute, the shakiness and burning in his limbs telling him he was getting too old for a stunt like that, before pulling himself up and dropping into the hard red seat. He didn't bother saying a word. He just put his mate back where she belonged--in his arms. He held her as tight as he could as he rained kisses all over her hair and face while letting everything he was feeling pour out of him. His guilt, his shame, his sorrow, his loneliness and longing for her.

She was so used to keeping walls up when he was near he felt her struggle to take them down in response to his openness. Like light shining through tiny cracks, he felt flickers of pain, of relief, of love and wholeness. Tears pooled in her abalone blue eyes as he cupped her face in his hands. In a soft voice he said, "We're in this together, remember?"

Her eyes and heart were full of doubt, so he hurried on. "I'm so sorry I made you feel like you had to take this on alone. I should have come to terms with it that first day at the hospital. I'm not going to lie and say I'm not still scared of loving our child only to have her taken away from us. But not loving her till I think it's safe isn't the way to handle it. She might end up leaving us after only a short time--or she might end up living three times longer than you, me, and everyone we know combined."

Smiling softly now, he smoothed his mate's snowy hair back from her face. "Point is, I realize now that however long she's ours, I need to love her every single second."

More tears pooled in Tamerin's eyes even as she attempted a quavering smile. "When will you start?" she asked in a whisper.

"Right now. You've been handling this by yourself for far too long. From now till this kid is born and for long after, I'm going to take care of you both. I'll wait on you hand and foot. I'll be your slave."

Chuckling softly, Tamerin rested her head on his shoulder, teary eyes closing. "I don't want a slave, Throttle. I just want you."

Throttle tightened his arms around her again--just as the Ferris Wheel lurched into motion. For a second Tamerin's fingers dug into his arms, a spike of fear shooting through her, but then she relaxed and settled against him. She had a lot of buried emotions to work through, but for now she was content to set them and everything else aside and just enjoy this quiet moment together. Gradually the gondola rose to the peak of the wheel before starting its slow descent, the pace calm and easy.

"You're going to be in big trouble when we get down," Tam remarked lazily.

"It's cool," said Throttle, his tone matching hers as he rested his cheek on her hair. "If they take me downtown I'll just teleport home later. And then I'm making you dinner. You want chocolate for dessert?"

Tamerin merely smiled and held him tighter. Right now, that was all she wanted.


	14. Chapter 14

Saber checked all of Vector's usual hangouts, but he didn't see any sign of his best friend anywhere. So after grabbing an early supper at Slingshot's, during which he kept an eye on the door the whole time, he rode to the place he'd called home for the last few months.

There was no trace of Vector here either, other than the place had become an even bigger mess than usual since Saber left. Both the living room and Vector's bedroom were littered with dirty laundry, crumpled chip bags and empty root beer bottles, and a few pieces of furniture weren't where they were supposed to be. Like someone had kicked or shoved them to get them out of the way...or just because.

In the rec room, Saber found his personal area untouched. Somehow, seeing that his things had been completely ignored in his absence made him feel more unwelcome than he did the night he left. Like it didn't matter whether he was here or not; his presence had no impact. Ears drooping, he took his duffel bags out of the closet and started packing.

He left a note in Vector's room, locked up behind him and rode back to Joy's. The place she once shared with Astrid was a small apartment near the middle of an expansive complex. Cave dwellings like the one Modo and Ashlin lived in were rapidly becoming archaic, though Saber understood why they had been clung to after the war. Mice, like rats, were social beings who liked to keep close to each other for reasons of comfort, companionship, and safety. Apartment complexes and other tall buildings were an easier target than homes tucked away in hills, cliffs, or clear underground, but now that fear of air strikes was long gone, no one was really concerned.

The main difference between these types of apartments and the kinds on other planets was that even though there were many different families living in the same building, each apartment was privately owned instead of rented. There were still inspections done to make sure certain conditions were met, though. Everyone was expected to do their part to keep the place safe for them and their neighbors.

As you'd except for a place owned and recently occupied by two girls, Joy's apartment was colored in soft hues--which he found himself taking new note of as he stepped inside with his bags. The main room, which connected to the family room on one side and the kitchen on the other, with two hallways branching off at the opposite end, had a bright white ceiling and pastel pink carpet. Most of the furniture was wooden, the upholstery plush and stuffed to plumpness, and colored in shades of peach and warm rust. Similarly the kitchen had peach tile and rose wallpaper lined with glossy rust stripes.

The whole place had a style that was more Earthly than Martian, in no small part because Joy was half human and had spent a lot of childhood vacations there. Plus the residents of Mars (which wasn't in huge supply of things like wood) had, thanks to tips from Imeerans, perfected the art of discreetly trading and bargaining with other worlds for their goods, without them ever realizing that those goods were bound for another planet. Since they were their closest neighbor, imports from Earth were the most popular.

Down the hallway straight ahead was the game room, utility room, and bathroom, while the other hall led to the bedrooms and a storage closet. Joy's room was colored in bright shades of pink, with silver and white accents. Astrid's room was like her; gentle and subdued, and colored in soothing shades of turquoise and blue. The sweet girl's things had been touched enough for now--converting her bedroom to a new purpose was too much, too soon. When Joy closed it up earlier he knew she didn't plan to go in there again any time soon. Saber drifted past the door, mindful of the empty silence on the other side, and went down the hall to the door past the closet.

It opened into a small room that served as the den, study, and library. There were bookshelves along the back wall, a loveseat in the middle, a desk to one side, a stereo in the corner. The carpet was rust-colored while the walls were a warm brown, the wood furniture darker than it was in the rest of the apartment. It was a space designed to be soothing, so a tired mind could sit down and relax. Clear their thoughts and curl up with a good book. Saber was already starting to feel at home as he set his bags on a chair and went over to the loveseat.

Like the sofa he'd slept on in Vector's rec room, the loveseat also unfolded into a bed. He had just finished locking it in place when Joy appeared in the doorway, dressed in a nightgown and looking worn out from the busy day. Still, her eyes and smile lit up when she saw him and what he was doing. "Are you staying?"

"If it's all right with you," Saber said casually, as he sat down on the edge of the mattress. "If so, I'll be staying for good."

The slender half-mouse let out a happy squeal and made a move like she was going to tackle him. She pulled back at the last second--but not before he braced for impact, which she didn't fail to notice. Or giggle at. "Thank you, cutie," she cooed, putting her hands on his shoulders and bending to kiss the tip of his nose.

Her eyes searched his as she straightened up. He saw the anxiety in those green orbs, the quiet discomfort but determination to see tomorrow through no matter how many tears she cried. Saber smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry. I won't leave your side for a second."

Looking relieved, she bent again to give him a quick hug. "Thank you," she repeated softly.

She kissed his cheek and whispered goodnight before heading to bed. Saber switched off the lights and did the same. They both needed to be up early tomorrow.

* * *

Throttle made good on his promise and waited on Tamerin hand and foot all evening. He cooked dinner for her, he brought her a stool to prop her feet on while she ate, he handed her a book and put a blanket around her shoulders as she relaxed in the den. At bedtime he washed her short hair and helped her change into her new maternity nightgown before picking her up and carrying her to bed.

With a lone lamp burning, the two of them sat up for a while, Tamerin leaning back against him as he held her tightly in his arms. He brushed his mouth against her hair and face from time to time, just basking in having her near again. Neither of them said anything; the emotions inside spoke plenty. Only she was so used to keeping what she was feeling in check, every time her happiness and excitement started to bubble up she'd squash it back down. Each time he felt her do it he was filled with guilt, and each time she quieted this feeling with her understanding, her forgiveness.

Throttle knew they both had a lot of healing to do--and not just from their brief separation. But he also knew there was no doubt that they would recover, and that they would both be stronger when they were done. As long as they were together, all it would take was a little time.

Slowly, he eased his arms down from around his mate and cupped the roundness of her belly with both hands. Since their baby started kicking he hadn't built up the courage to feel for himself, but now he pressed his fingers to the thin fabric of Tam's nightgown and waited. As if sensing the attention he got an almost immediate response. Not a gentle fluttering, but a firm and distinct _kick-kick-kick._

It was such a fleeting sensation, and so simple...yet it sent his heart racing and had his fingers clutching tighter as he waited breathlessly to feel it again. Come on, little one, he pleaded silently. Do it again.

He felt two more sets of kicks and a firm push that might have been a foot, or maybe a hand. Almost like the little one knew her father was on the other side of her temporary home, just out of reach. Throttle knew he was getting carried away with himself, but he let himself imagine for a moment that it was so. It was rumored that Imeeran babies could sense their parents from inside the womb, and their baby was half of one. Are you like that? he wondered, as he ran his hand over Tam's belly. Do you know I'm here?

It was a small, silent question, but it was enough. Like a floodgate being torn open his mind finally filled with all those questions he'd kept himself from asking these past seven months. In rapid succession he wondered about everything.

They knew they were having a girl, but what kind of girl would she be? Would she look like him or Tam? Would she grow up tall or short? Slim or adorably chubby? Would she be the kind of girl who liked all the pink waiting for her or would she want to trade it in for black in a few years? Would she prefer to stay at home and keep things quiet or thrash turf and make as much noise as possible?

And most importantly...would she grow up as strong as the pushing against his hand suggested?

They wouldn't know anything for sure till she was born. Till then they could only hope. Hope and wait anxiously for another five months. He wished he didn't have to wait so long. He was ready to find out what was in store for them now. He was ready for their daughter to be born. He was--

Tam suddenly pressed her face into his shoulder and started crying softly. Her emotions were spilling out over what was left of the walls she was still struggling to take down and running from one end of the spectrum to the other. She was relieved, happy, and excited, yet drained to the point of exhausted. She felt as hopeful and anxious and terrified as he did. But most of all she felt love. She loved him and their baby so much.

It was an all-encompassing feeling that drew over him like a blanket, cocooning him in a sense of comfort and safety. He was whole again, and felt more at ease and content than he had in months as he wiped his mate's tears away. He kissed her forehead before cradling her to him, resting one hand on her belly again and cupping her head with the other. He rocked her gently as he let his overflowing love wash over her, soothing away her troubles.

There would be more tears to cry tomorrow. Tonight, the two of them let all their other worries slip away. They'd made their mistakes and now they were safely back in each other's arms. For tonight, that was all that mattered.

* * *

Generally Imeerans didn't bury their dead. The surface of Malteria was out of the question due to its unpredictable sand storms and vicious scavengers. No one cared for jettisoning the bodies into the ocean for fish food either, so it had long been the custom for the citizens of the underwater city to burn their dead.

Astrid's mother had made other plans. She wasn't a resident of Malteria anymore and her daughter had never been, so she had decided to honor the traditions Rimfire and other Martian mice upheld. The traditional funeral was simple: it began at sunrise and ended when the body of the loved one was committed to the ground at sunset.

After showering and dressing in formal clothes, Saber and Joy headed out just as first light was peeking over the horizon. Astrid's parents had chosen to hold her memorial at home. The family room had extra chairs and several tables lined with refreshments, and a separate table reserved for the guestbook. Beside the guestbook was a memory box, with slips of paper for guests to write down a special memory they had of Astrid. Her parents planned to use them to make a memory book later.

On a nearby stand was a screen cycling through pictures of Astrid, from the day she was born to just recently. There were shots of her with her parents and plenty of her and Joy. The two had been glued at the hip since they were in diapers--a lot like him and Vector. Saber felt a sudden pang, and not just because of the pictures, or the quiet music that was playing.

Joy took his hand and pulled him away from the slideshow, the sound of gentle flutes and soft strings. They were the first ones here and she wanted to head straight down the hall to Astrid's old bedroom. The cozy room was just far enough away that the music coming from the family room could barely be heard, creating a sense of disconnection from the rest of the home. A sense of reverence.

Until it was time to move it to the grave site at sundown, Astrid's casket was being kept in here. The room was full of flowers, potted plants and small gifts of remembrance, the fragrance in the air gently sweet...though it didn't completely mask the scent of death. Choking on a sob, Joy turned and hid her face against his chest for a long moment. When she wiped her eyes and looked up again, there was a look on her face that said she wanted to be alone for a few minutes. Nodding in understanding, Saber kissed her forehead before quietly returning to the family room.

There was still no one else here other than Astrid's parents, whom he sat and made awkward chitchat with while he waited. It was impossible not to feel awkward at a time like this. Both Martian and Imeeran were putting on a strong front today, but the pain in their eyes was clear. There was also a tiredness to their faces that suggested they didn't sleep last night. And how could they? he thought sadly. He didn't imagine any parent could sleep knowing tomorrow they would be burying their child.

There were tears in his own eyes by the time Joy came back. Sniffling, she sank into his arms and stayed by him for the rest of the day.

* * *

Despite the solemn mood, tears, and overall air of melancholy that day, Throttle had a sense of peace deep inside him that he hadn't felt in months. It was like he was a deep lake; there was turmoil at the surface, but at the core there was stillness and calm. He kept his arm firmly around his mate for most of the afternoon, the two of them speaking in quiet tones and sharing memories with their loved ones.

They barely spoke a word to each other. They didn't need to. With their minds wide open and fully connected the way they were supposed to be, they communicated wordlessly that day. The afternoon was wearing on into early evening when Throttle let the feeling that he wanted to slip away alone grow in their bond. Tam silently squeezed his hand and went over to her brother, who was hovering by one of the refreshment tables with his family--all of his family.

There were several Imeerans (and several from other species for that matter) who had a phobia of using teleportation technology due to the slim but very real chance of detrimental equipment failure. Little Deichan had always been one of them, but for the sake of offering her condolences alongside her mate and children, she had set aside her fears and transported here with them. In spite of the nature of her visit, there was a clear spark of curiosity in her eyes over being on another planet for the very first time in her long life.

Throttle smiled to himself before leaving the family room and heading down the hall. No one else was in Astrid's room right now, which left him alone to say goodbye to his little sister for the last time.

Her parents had spared nothing when it came to preparing their baby girl for her final viewing. The surface of the casket gleamed an iridescent silver, the inside was lined with creamy silk. Astrid was wearing her favorite blue dress and her bird-like hands were folded softly on her middle. To conceal her ashy complexion a touch of makeup had been dusted over her face, giving her cheeks and lips a hint of pink. Her closed eyelids shimmered slightly, and her teal hair been been combed smooth and styled with curls. Clips shaped like tiny silver stars glittered near her scalp.

Throttle was just leaning closer and resting his furred hand over her tiny ones when he heard a footstep behind him. He straightened and turned to see Bevra standing in the doorway. She smiled softly as she came over, briefly touching a hand to his arm before focusing on her daughter. A smile touched her lips again. "Isn't she beautiful?" she murmured, as she smoothed her hand over Astrid's forehead. "Our little stardust princess."

The tan mouse nodded mutely in agreement, his throat too tight to answer out loud. Bevra leaned down and kissed her daughter's face before whispering in her ear. "Mommy will always love you."

Throttle's eyes clouded as she moved back to give him room; he bent to kiss Astrid's cheek. "You were the best little sister a bro could have," he whispered.

He hovered there a moment more before straightening and stepping back. He was going to leave the room to give the former general some privacy, but to his surprise she turned him to her and put her arms around him. In all the years he'd been mated to Tamerin her ex-general mother had displayed little affection for him, about as much as he'd displayed for her. Yet she held him to her with such a natural ease it was like she'd done it countless times. Throttle couldn't sense her emotions like Tam could, but he could feel the motherly care housed in her embrace just the same. With his eyes closed and his head on her shoulder, she felt like any mother did.

When they returned to the others it was only a little while before it was time to head to the cemetery. Tam stayed at his side until it was over, and he noticed that Saber stayed by Joy the same way. He also noticed that the auburn-haired rodent glanced up several times as the final words were spoken before Astrid was laid to rest. Like she was expecting someone to show up at the very last second.

No one did.

As the sun drifted below the horizon and dusk began to deepen they said their good-nights and started for home. Tamerin gave both her mother and Rimfire a tight hug; Throttle went over to say goodbye to Jayce--only it turned out he wasn't leaving for Malteria just yet. "For all her worrying the little lady's gotten attached to Mars in a hurry," he explained with a grin. "I think it'll be at least a week before we're out of here."

"Wanna take a ride tomorrow?" Throttle wondered.

"Ready when you are."

Jayce said bye for now to his sister, making sure to pat her growing middle. "See you soon, kiddo."

Astrid's parents lingered in the cemetery a little longer while the rest of them walked to the parking lot. As he and Tam mounted his bike, Throttle looked over and saw Vinnie and Charley having a quiet discussion with Joy and Saber. He wouldn't have thought anything of it, but all of a sudden Vinnie pulled the sable hybrid into a headlock, teeth bared. They were too far away for him to hear, but as Throttle watched his bro muttered something in the blushing rodent's ear.

With a weary look, Joy pried her father off before putting her arm around her boyfriend and leading him away. Charley gave her husband's shoulder a pat. "Wonder what that was about?" said Throttle.

"I'm pretty sure Joy has a new roommate," Tamerin said casually.

"Ah."

He stared off into the distance for a second. "You think that'll be me in a few years?"

His mate chuckled as she cuddled her head against his shoulder and tightened her arms around him. "The protective father scaring off the boys with a hail of gunfire? I've no doubt."


	15. Chapter 15

The next few weeks passed by quietly. After the funeral Joy stopped talking about Astrid, so Saber didn't bring her up either. Joy had a lot of healing to do and he let her grieve in her own way and in her own time. Other than the quiet, once he was fully settled in his new home things went back to normal.

Except the quiet was exactly why life didn't quite feel right to him just yet, not even after he got a raise at work and Joy's father gradually stopped giving him death glares. The sable hybrid imagined Vector would be looking at him the same way if he were aware that he and and his little sister were technically living together now. Saber didn't think he knew, but he couldn't really be sure of anything at the moment; they still hadn't talked, and the most he'd seen of his best friend were fleeting glimpses before he locked himself up with his work at the garage. When Saber asked Joy she told him she hadn't spoken to her brother yet either.

Saber couldn't help feeling down about it. He missed his old bud and had so much to share with him. He wanted to tell him that he was okay with not being his roomie anymore. He wanted to tell him how happy he and Joy were together. If things kept going the way they were going, they really would be brothers before too much longer.

Not that he and Joy had discussed it just yet, or taken their relationship any further. There was a time and a place for that kind of thing, and while living under the same roof was arguably the right place, it was definitely not the right time. So each night at bedtime he would kiss his lovely girlfriend goodnight before heading to his room down the hall.

Joy tried to start each day with a smile, but there were times when he could tell she didn't want to leave the apartment, and would tinker with her work at the garage half-heartedly. She was ready to move on and start her new position at the orphanage, but she was sticking around a little longer--until she was able to finally corner her brother and tell him her plans.

In the meantime she continued to mourn, as they all did. It wasn't something that could be rushed...but sometimes, you just needed to take a break from feeling sad and have some fun.

One morning he rode with Joy to Second Chance with the intent of turning around and heading to the rail yard afterward, just like he had every morning for the last few weeks. Only when the two of them got there the garage was closed, and Joy's parents were standing outside chatting with the others. "What's up?" asked Joy curiously.

"It's Christmastime on Earth," her mother reminded her.

"So what are you waiting for?" her dad added with a grin. "Go change!"

The two of them had completely forgotten; now they rushed home again to change into their snow gear. After calling to say he was taking the day off, Saber pulled on a dark gray ski suit, black snow boots and gloves, a gray scarf, and a lined jacket over the suit plus carried along a pair of black ice skates. Joy donned white leggings under a pink skater's skirt, a fuzzy white sweater covered in pink, blue, and green snowflakes, a pearl gray jacket, and a white mitten and scarf set. The skates she slung over her shoulder by the laces were pink with white stripes down the sides.

"You look as yummy as Easter candy," Saber noted with a grin.

"Wrong holiday," she said wryly, as he leaned to peck her nose.

"Not my fault you decided to dress in pastels."

Before they rode back to the garage he tried calling Vector. When no one answered he left a message saying what they were doing and where they were going--which was where they always went this time of year. Vector had his own wrist communicator. If he felt like joining them later it was just one quick teleport away.

It was December on Earth and both winter and the holiday season was already in full swing. Joy's dad and his buds had gotten hooked on the traditions back when they were living on the sister planet and they made sure to head over there repeatedly every December. They really got into it, doing everything from building snow forts and having epic snowball fights, pigging out on hot chocolate, candy canes and Christmas cookies, and dressing up in Santa suits and treating the unsuspecting citizens of Chicago to rock and roll versions of Christmas carols.

It was still early in the season and that meant it was time to celebrate the arrival of winter with snowballs, ice skates, and a whole lot of immature behavior. The older members of the group had a soft spot for the big city, but at this time of year the local ice rinks were packed, so their tradition was to head a little ways south. Between Chicago and the rural towns beyond were plenty of woods, and from exploring and joyriding across back roads a small pond had been discovered in a clearing years back. It had become their own private place, where they were free to ice skate, play hockey and go sledding on the nearby hills for as long as they pleased.

Saber didn't bother grabbing more than his skates, knowing that the adults in the group would be bringing the rest. Not that you could really tell they were adults today. With their arms loaded with skis, hockey sticks and dragging sleds behind them while swapping barbs and bragging loudly even though the games hadn't even started yet, they were like kids in a toy store. Joy let them be, quietly lacing up her skates and gliding gracefully onto the ice. Her mother went off with Ashlin, one pulling along a sled and the other carrying Horex. This was the little guy's first time visiting Earth--and the first time he'd ever seen snow. He giggled and squirmed with excitement in his adopted mother's arms as they started up one of the pristine white hills.

Small-framed Ako didn't care much for full-contact sports and followed after them with a round toboggan. Despite his fur coat he didn't care much for the cold, either, and was bundled to his pointed ears. Michio looked even less interested in the group lining up on the ice with their hockey sticks and already fighting over the puck, instead taking a seat on an old wooden bench next to the pond with a palm-sized custom computer he'd built at the lab. He looked content to sit there the rest of the day...which made someone question why he'd come along in the first place.

"You gonna loaf around all day, genius boy?" Vinnie challenged, a hockey stick in either hand.

The lanky goat-creature typed on his computer for a moment before he answered. "I don't have a lot of muscle," he said, sounding completely disinterested.

Yet as the taunting went on he set his computer down, got up--and before the brash white mouse could react he'd rammed him in the stomach with his horned head, sending him flying back onto the ice and skidding across the pond, until he came to a stop at the far end, ears stuck in a snow drift.

"But I do have a hard head," said Michio smugly.

Casual as ever, he sat back down again, while Vinnie's buds helped the fallen rodent up off the ice. "Easy, old man," said Throttle wryly, as he held his friend back from chasing after a second butting. "You're middle age now."

"You're just saying that 'cause he's your kid. Now lemme at him!"

Snickering, Saber left them alone to sort this out and skated over to Joy. She smiled like she'd been patiently waiting for him and held out her hand; he grasped it affectionately and the two of them coasted the length of the pond. He wasn't the best of skaters, but Joy was a natural, fluidly making the turn as the edge curved to the left. The sable hybrid relaxed and let her guide him along. She took the lead easily, grasping his other hand and skating backwards, skirt ruffling. Her hair coiled around her face as he edged closer to her, easing his hands from hers and settling them on her waist as they continued to glide over the ice together.

Almost like they were dancing, he realized, as she placed her hands on his arms. Her eyes were aglow as she tightened her grip and helped him rotate in a slow circle with her. The crisp air nipped at his nose and ears, the breeze their movements made combing through his hair. He knew there was activity on another part of the ice, but for a moment it felt like they had stolen away to a world all to themselves. A perfect world where they were surrounded by hills of glistening white with a pale blue sky above.

The air smelled clean and pure, and as he drew closer and nuzzled Joy's face, her fur was fragrant with winter freshness. He pulled in his breath as he cuddled his cheek against hers, his hands coming up to cup her face. They continued to drift in slow circles as he kissed her muzzle, her mouth. Gradually they came to a stop, but he barely noticed as he slipped his arms around her and held her tight. Feeling a wave of affection--and a little possessive--he tightened his tail around her waist; she coiled her much smaller tail around his legs in response.

I'm glad you're mine, Joy, Saber thought distantly, as he continued to explore her sweet mouth. I'm so glad I get to call you mine.

He would have been content to stay in her arms for the rest of the afternoon, but he felt a presence looming behind him a second before a pair of hands clamped down on his shoulders. The owner of the hands waited until he and Joy had unwound themselves before yanking him away.

"C'mon," Vinnie ordered, as he pushed him over to where the others were waiting, "we're short a couple of players."

Considering the other kinds of punishment he could get for being caught with his tongue in Joy's mouth, Saber decided not to argue.

* * *

Tamerin was skipping the roughhousing on the ice this year, so Throttle decided to take a pass on it too. Instead, he placed his mate on a classic wooden sled with red runners, took up the knotted rope at the front and went for a walk in the woods. Away from the frozen pond and sledding hills were rows of dense trees, their branches bare and brown against the white backdrop. There were also scattered fir trees and evergreen shrubs with lush greenery, dusted in a hint of snow.

It was a quiet afternoon, the only sounds being the crunch of snow under his boots, the scrape of the sled runners, the occasional singing of a cardinal and the chirps of winter sparrows. Throttle generally preferred more noise, but today he was content with the silence of his mate's mind locked with his own. That gentle, constant presence that made everything right with the world. Today he was content to just feel her, and she him.

They still had fun. He pulled her up inclines and down hills, and when they reached a well-worn dirt path weaving through the woods he ran for a while, making her hang on with a laugh. The trees suddenly opened up and he found himself exiting the woods and entering an open meadow blanketed in thick, untouched snow. The path grew wider and continued on, curving over dips in the land and winding next to an old wire fence with wooden posts in the distance. Panting, Throttle slowed to a stop and took a moment to catch his breath.

With a chuckle, Tamerin grabbed his hand and gave it a tug. "Come on," she coaxed playfully, "have a seat."

He complied, crossing behind her and sitting on the back edge of the sled. She leaned against him as he wrapped his arms around her, her head settling back against his shoulder. Throttle moved his hands lower and cupped her belly...but he didn't feel anything, even after waiting for several minutes. Tam was in her eighth month now and that meant their baby was at the stage of development where she barely moved.

He couldn't help feeling sad; he'd only just started to feel her kick, and now her movements were so soft and infrequent he almost always missed them. Waiting so long to feel their baby kick was just one of the things he felt guilty about.

"I'm sorry I wasted so much time," he murmured.

Tamerin didn't respond with words. She merely tilted her head back and softly stroked his muzzle, her heart full of understanding and forgiveness. She wasn't mad at him, and she was waiting patiently for when he wasn't mad at himself. They both knew it was going to be a while yet.

They continued to sit in comfortable silence, enjoying the stillness around them. One hand still cupping her belly, Throttle drew the other over Tamerin's soft hair, lazily caressed the curve of her jawline. Sitting motionless started to feel a little cold after a while, but he knew his mate didn't mind. Unaffected by the low temperature she hadn't bothered dressing heavily today, instead only putting on a pair of gray knit tights and a dark gray sweater dress. Mostly for show, she also had a bright pink scarf around her neck and a pair of matching earmuffs over her ears. They were extra fuzzy--not at all what you'd expect a hardened ex-military leader to wear.

Snickering, Throttle nuzzled her cheek. "My cute little snow bunny."

She smirked and pinched his nose; he snickered again and held her tighter. Just then he felt a fluttering sensation beneath his hand, the softest, briefest of pressures before it faded away. As he absently caressed his mate's belly with his fingertips, Throttle wondered if their baby was asleep most of the time right now. "Next year I'll get you your own sled," he murmured. "And I'll teach you how to make snow angels, and a snowman, and--"

"And in a few weeks she'll get her first preview of Christmas cooking," Tamerin put in, lips smacking.

Throttle grinned at the thought. Along with coming out here frequently during winter for snow games, they also teleported to downtown Chicago for a traditional Christmas dinner on Christmas Eve. Not everyone joined the ice skating and snowball fights, but no one had missed out on their special dinner in years.

His heart sank as he remembered there was someone who'd be missing out on all their gatherings from now on. There'd be a place at the table--and in their hearts--that would always stand empty.

Knowing what he was thinking, Tamerin gave his hand a squeeze. Her eyes were gentle as she said, "Want to go see how much fun everyone's having without us?"

Throttle kissed her cheek and stood with a smile. "Let's."

* * *

Like every year, the rest of the month was full of trips to Earth and cheerful baking. As he always did, Saber dropped by Modo and Ashlin's whenever he had the chance--so he could help himself to the cookies Ashlin baked. This year Joy tagged along and gave the older rodent a hand, which led Saber to discover something else about his girlfriend he'd been unaware of till now: Joy had mad skills in the kitchen.

While Ashlin iced cookies, the pale-furred half-mouse made fudge squares streaked with mint, drizzled milk chocolate over roasted nuts, dunked pretzels in white chocolate and shook green and red sprinkles on them, and topped gingerbread cupcakes with colorful hunks of sugar candy. "No chocolate cupcakes?" Saber teased.

"They're in the oven," Joy said crisply. "Chocolate is the universe's most perfect food. Don't knock it."

Mars didn't typically celebrate Earth holidays, but due to picking up broadcast signals from the neighboring planet for so many years, several of their own holidays and traditions were heavily influenced by them. Inspired by Christmastime being the season of giving, this time of year was when citizens took to their kitchens and prepared treats, or got creative and put together handmade gifts that were then given to loved ones. Some only handed out a few small goodie bags, while others really got into it and spent weeks passing around surprises or hid them where they knew the recipient would find them.

Ashlin took plates full of goodies to the orphanage as well as the hospital, treating both staff and patient alike. A lot of what Joy baked that year went to the new shelter. There had been several visitors now, though they'd only stopped in long enough to shower and grab a hot meal before slipping out while it was still dark.

Saber wasn't much of a cook, so mostly he treated his fellow rail yard workers to rounds of drinks at Slingshot's. His special gifts to his family were set aside for Christmas Eve.

An awful lot had happened since last year, but Saber was hoping their big family dinner would take place the same way it always did. He knew that it would never be quite the same after this year--but he also knew that it was the nature of every family to change, and to grow. Who was and wasn't a part of a family was always in flux. What he wanted now was for someone who was still part of it not to miss out on this year's dinner.

And then, almost as if he had been summoned by his best friend's thoughts, he and Joy stumbled upon him while riding home from the orphanage one afternoon.

Saber almost expected him to slink away when he spotted them approaching, but instead Vector slowed to a stop and waited as they parked, hands shoved in his pockets and shoulders slumped. Joy reached him first; she put her arms around her brother without a word. With an almost pained look on his face, Vector held her in return.

Feeling a little awkward and unsure, Saber kept back as the two continued to embrace each other. Slowly their arms eased away; Joy took her brother's hand with a quiet smile. "Let's go."

Vector was on foot for some reason, and there was hardly enough room on Saber's small bike, so they left it behind and walked instead. Together they walked down a quiet street, past a park district, and through the solemn iron gates of the cemetery.

The grounds were covered in carefully trimmed grass colored deep violet, with white stone paths, decorative bronze trees and shrubs, and an occasional iron bench. The three of them headed up a hill to an area in the shade of the largest tree in the cemetery. It was quiet here today, with only soft chirps of birds and a faint rustle of leaves in the breeze as they stopped and stood before a small silver marker in the ground.

It was a simple metal plaque surrounded with fresh flowers, some bundled together with ribbon and lying on the grass, others standing upright in small pots. There were a few trinkets and small toys sitting around, including a stuffed mouse doll wearing a halo and a t-shirt that read _riding free in the heavens._

The plaque itself memorialized Astrid's date of birth and death above a brief epitaph: _Loving Daughter, Sister, and Friend._

Vector sank to his knees on the grass and broke down in tears. Saber and Joy stayed silently back, giving him privacy as he hunched forward and laid a hand over the small marker. If he spoke anything out loud in the minutes that followed, it was too low to hear.

Finally, he wiped his eyes, touched a kiss to his fingers and brushed them to the marker before getting to his feet. As he turned around, Joy moved forward and hugged him again. Vector held her tightly for a moment, then shifted a little and extended an arm. With a shy smile, Saber went over and put one arm around his girlfriend and the other around his best friend. Joy put an arm around Saber and the three of them held each other close for several quiet minutes, just enjoying being together again.

"I'm sorry I booted you out," Vector mumbled.

Saber smiled faintly and patted his shoulder. "It's okay. I'm pretty happy where I am now."

Though his eyes were still damp, Vector smiled in return. He turned his attention to Joy. "So, are you going to make him my brother or what?"

There was dampness in her own eyes, but Joy let out a laugh as she kissed her brother's cheek. "Let's go get lunch," she said. "There's a lot we need to catch you up on."


	16. Chapter 16

Throttle couldn't help releasing a sigh of contentment. Life was back to normal. He and his mate's minds and hearts were fully open and connected, just the way they were supposed to be. And that evening he felt a sense of wholeness, of being filled, that he'd come to recognize as a signal that his mate was literally inside his head, watching through his eyes. It gave him a feeling of protection--and it also made cooking a breeze.

With a smile on his face, he looked carefully at what he was doing, taking his time as he reached for ingredients, grabbing the ones he felt a positive reaction to and ignoring the ones he didn't. He took the finished meal out of the oven, spooned a steaming portion onto a fancy plate, poured sparkling fruit juice into a glass, added a sprig of garnish to the plate, then loaded everything plus a dish of chocolate pudding onto a tray and carried it to the bedroom.

"There we are," he said grandly, as he carefully placed the tray on Tamerin's lap where she sat in bed. "Tuna melt casserole with extra cheddar cheese. And that's how much I love you."

Tamerin smirked at him; Throttle grinned and kissed her cheek before handing her a cloth napkin. He sat down and flipped through a baby magazine while she ate, wondering to himself if their baby would look like the tiny mice smiling from the pages, or like her mother and her kind, or something else completely. Imeerans had so much material in their genetic makeup that the chances of having a baby who closely resembled either of them were probably pretty slim.

When Tamerin finished eating he set the magazine aside, crawled across the mattress and laid his cheek on her round belly. He waited patiently for several minutes, but tonight there wasn't so much as a faint quiver. Disappointed, he turned his attention to his mate, who stroked his hair as he scooted higher and rested his cheek on her arm.

"You need anything else?" Throttle asked tentatively.

His mate smiled and coiled a lock of his graying hair around her finger. "No. I'm good."

Warm affection pooled in her heart as she continued to stroke his hair. She was full and relaxed and comfortable and he was with her. That was all she needed to stay happy.

All Throttle wanted now was for a certain day in the very near future to be a successful one. "Four more months," he murmured, hand on her middle.

A finger tickled his antenna. "Are you looking forward to it?" Tamerin asked with another smile.

She knew that he was, and she knew how much, but still he pressed a kiss to her belly and said, "You have no idea."

* * *

Now this is more like it, thought Saber, as he looked around the table with a happy smile. Everyone was here tonight. Modo and Ashlin and baby Horex, his best bud, girlfriend and their parents, Throttle and his mate, Rimfire and his, and all their extended family from Malteria. Even his parents, who were generally occupied with something down in Neothera and often passed on other events, never missed out on dressing up and joining them for Christmas Eve dinner.

Most restaurants were either closed or almost empty tonight, but while someone with fur and mouse ears could get away with wearing a helmet while just passing through an area, sitting down and eating with one on would get you some pretty weird looks. So instead their tradition was to order dinner and then eat in private.

Since Chicago was her city and she didn't have a built in fur coat, Charley always led the group. This year she had more company than usual; Deichan and her daughter Chloe stuck close to her as they walked through the quiet streets. Chloe had visited Mars and Earth with her father before, but this was the first time she was here with her mother and was visibly excited about it.

Imeerans could pass for human if they masked their unusual coloring a little, so each of them bundled up in scarves, hats, and gloves and helped Charley order the food. Afterward they all headed to the hotel room they'd booked for the evening, where they set the long wooden table waiting for them. This year there were fancy china dishes with a glossy white surface and a pattern of holly berries and leaves around the edges, polished silverware, glittering wineglasses, and cloth napkins colored red and green.

The centerpiece was a glass plate decorated with multiple pillar candles that smelled like pine trees as they burned. Branch garland was twisted around their bases and more pieces of garland were placed on the burgundy tablecloth. There were holly berries and strands of tiny white Christmas lights, softly glowing taper candles, and the steaming food smelled delicious. Sandwiched between Vector and Joy, Saber couldn't have been happier.

Plates and dishes were passed around and glasses were filled with eggnog, red wine and root beer. Horex, who had recently celebrated his first birthday, was being strapped into a highchair by his loving mother. Since his actual birth date was unknown, Ashlin had assigned it to the day he first came into her life.

"What do you think, sweetie?" she asked, as she stroked her son's furry head. "Does it all look good?"

Horex was bouncing in his seat excitedly, puppy-dog nose twitching rapidly and tail wagging through the gap at the back of the highchair. "Nummies!" he exclaimed.

"Would you like some mashed potatoes and gravy?"

The little sand raider nodded eagerly.

"And some cranberry sauce?"

More nodding.

"Roasted chestnuts and veggies?"

Anxious nodding and licking of chops. Ashlin let out a laugh. "Is there anything you _don't_ want?"

Vigorous head shaking. "That's what I thought."

Saber was feeling pretty anxious himself, and he made sure to leave plenty of room on his plate for a heaping portion of roast turkey meat and hot chestnut stuffing. Joy was bent over her own plate, calmly slicing her helping of turkey...and subtly giving Saber a look at the back of her head. He noticed for the first time that her hair was pulled back in a clip shaped like mistletoe.

When she realized he'd noticed she grinned coyly at him, but since they were far from alone he chastely kissed her cheek. A skinny tail still slapped the back of his head. "Not in front of the kids," Vector scolded.

The sable hybrid was tempted to elbow him, but he was afraid of spilling or breaking something, so he merely shot him a weary look before settling in his seat and digging in. There was a crack near his ear as Joy reached behind him and slapped her brother's shoulder with her own tail. "No being mean to my boyfriend."

"No being mean to your big brother," Vector complained, "it's Christmas."

He balled up a napkin and threw it at her, which led to an all-out brother/sister brawl--without either of them leaving their seats. Saber hunkered down, shielded his head with one hand and tried to continue eating as best he could with the other as tails whipped and food and other objects flew around his head. Across the table, Charley had her head propped on her palm as she watched her children with a look of exasperation. "Do I need to take you two into another room and give you a refresher course on manners?" she asked.

Both Chloe and her mother were familiar with their family dinners and how they usually went, though they hadn't been exposed to them as often as everyone else. Deichan watched the other side of the table mutely as she sliced her turkey into nibble-sized pieces; Chloe let out a laugh and sipped her eggnog. "Were Dirk and I like that?" she wondered.

"What do you mean 'were'?" said her father with a smirk.

While Dirk and Chloe shot the active general dirty looks, Throttle suddenly rose to his feet, wineglass in hand. "If I may indulge in a quick toast?" he began. "To the memories of the past we had a blast making, to the memories of now and those creating them with us, and to the memories waiting to be made in the future. May we never take any of them or each other for granted, not for one second."

His eyes drifted around the table as he spoke and stopped on his mate when he finished, who smiled softly and squeezed his free hand. There was quiet murmuring for the next minute or so as the toast went around the table, each of them echoing the sentiment and adding well-wishing of their own to the person they clinked glasses with. Then it was over and the mood lightened again, and laughing chatter resumed. Vinnie whispered something in his wife's ear before kissing her cheek, which inspired Joy to slyly display the back of her head again.

"I'm going to switch that thing with a paperclip," her father warned.

"Aww, man, I spilled my eggnog," whined Vector, who'd gotten too enthusiastic during the toast.

With a giggle, Chloe stretched across the table and held out her glass. "Here--you can have mine," she offered.

As the night wore on, plates and glasses were repeatedly emptied and filled, and Saber started to feel full and sleepy, though he took another helping of turkey just the same. He covered yawns between bites before settling back with a quiet belch and listening to the hum of chitchat around him for a while. Beside him, Joy had pushed her plate away and was doing the same, the sleepy, satisfied look on her face matching his own.

With a shy smile, Saber pushed his chair back and stood. "Feel like taking a walk?"

After grabbing their coats the two of them headed out behind the hotel. It was late and aside from the distant sounds of traffic and a radio playing Christmas tunes, the night was quiet. The sky was blue-black and twinkling with stars, the moon was almost full, and as the two of them came to stand under the light above the back door, snow began to gently fall.

Joy tugged her collar up and smiled at him, eyes expectant. Saber flashed a smile of his own before lowering his gaze and unzipping one of his vest pockets. His girlfriend nibbled her bottom lip, smile eager now, as he took out a small wooden box and held it out to her. "Merry Christmas, Joy," he said softly.

He knew he wasn't great at picking out gifts, but her eyes shone just the same as she studied the box closer. The wood was a dark, polished cherry, with a circle of etched glass in the hinged lid. Joy smoothed her thumb over the pattern of stars on the glass before lifting the lid; the delicate mechanism inside stirred to life, releasing a tune gentle as starlight as the tiny gears turned.

Joy waited until the song had wound to a stop before closing the lid. With the warmest of smiles and snowflakes in her hair, she lifted her arms, snugged them around his neck and kissed him. Saber held her to him for a long moment, basking in her warmth, her tender presence, his ever-growing love for her. When they parted Joy cranked her music box up again with a grin.

Suddenly feeling like there were eyes on him, Saber turned around. Someone was standing at the corner of the hotel, just close enough to the edge of the light that it illuminated the white fur of his face. Just enough that Saber could see him smiling.

* * *

The night was growing late and the table was mostly empty now, both dishes and seats standing vacant. Some had already gone home, but others were out enjoying the sights, and Jayce and his family planned to stay at the hotel for the night and explore the city together tomorrow. Tamerin had gotten up to use the bathroom, and Throttle, after grabbing a box he'd stashed by the table earlier, went to wait for her out in the hall. She sensed what he was up to before she reached him and came around the corner with a smile.

With a smile of his own, he took her hand and led her down the paneled hallway to an alcove that had a couple of wooden chairs with padded seats and a potted plant tucked away in it. The tan mouse sat his mate down on one of the chairs and placed the small, unwrapped box on her lap. "It's not really for you," he commented with a grin as she popped open the lid. "It's for...you know."

Laughing, Tamerin unfolded the pink onesie and held it up. Printed across the front were the words _Daddy's Little Biker Girl_. "I can't wait to give it to her."

"Me either."

Still grinning, Throttle moved closer and placed his hands on her round belly. "Whaddya think?" he asked. "You about ready to come out and play?"

As if in response, he felt a quiver a movement. "Glad to hear it."

* * *

A few days after Christmas Eve, Joy finished up her last job at Second Chance Garage and clocked out for the final time. Saber came by after work just in time to meet her on her way out, and together they rode to the orphanage, where she spent a little while filling out forms and signing papers that officially made her a member of the Stardust House team. When she finished the two of them stuck around until evening, helping Ashlin get the little ones through dinner and into bed.

Afterward they rode out to grab some dinner for themselves. Tonight they were looking for a place a little more intimate and cozy than Slingshot's, but as they passed by the parking lot they spied a familiar red bike up front, so after exchanging smiles they changed their minds and went in. Vector spotted them the second they stepped through the door and eagerly waved them over to his table.

"So, where should we start?" he asked as the two of them sat down. "Team-up or all out free-for-all destruction?"

"How about we start with an appetizer and save explosive action in the arcade for dessert?" suggested Joy, in a voice that said it wasn't open for discussion.

"Aww, okay," said Vector, pretending to pout.

After Saber and Joy told the waitress their orders they helped themselves to Vector's pile of chips. While they waited they talked about Joy's career change today. "Your future is set, but what about yours?" the white half-mouse asked Saber. "You plan on doing heavy lifting for the rest of your life?"

"It's okay for now," said Saber, shrugging. "I might want to do something less taxing someday, but right now I'm comfortable with it."

Before the conversation could continue, one of the barmaids came over from the front. She leaned closer to Joy to be heard over the music and chatter in the room. "You have a call," she said.

Looking surprised, Joy got up and followed the barmaid to the front of the bar, where the public vidphones were lined up. When she came back a few minutes later she looked worried. "That was the shelter," she reported. "They want me to come by right away."

"Did they say why?" wondered Saber.

When she shook her head, Vector hopped to his feet and left a large tip in apology for running out before their food arrived; Saber did the same. "We're going with you," said her brother.

Looking grateful, Joy clung to Saber's hand as the three of them hurried out to the parking lot. After they each mounted their own bike they rode straight to the new shelter. A friendly mouse greeted them at the door and showed them inside to the cafeteria. It was empty right now--except for a female sand raider Saber recognized.

She was the same long-eared sand raider Joy had hugged after delivering food and clothes to her faction, the one with the two little ones. They were here too--though they weren't as little as they were that night, months ago. One of them was sitting at a table chowing down on a bowl of hot stew while the other ran over and hugged Joy around the legs.

Joy bent and hugged him back with a sound that was more a sob than a laugh, though as she straightened up there was a dazzling smile on her face. With a smile of her own, the little one's mother hurried over and the two girls shared a tight embrace.

"I didn't know if you were okay," Joy said in a whisper, eyes glistening with happy tears.

"We're okay," said her friend. "Thanks to you, we all are."

The two continued to speak in low tones, and Saber, after nudging Vector to do the same, slipped outside to give them some privacy. "Do you think it's going to get better soon?" wondered Vector softly, as the two of them leaned their backs against the side of the building and watched the stars come out. "You know, for people like them?"

"I think so," said Saber, voice equally soft. "I think that as long as people like Joy are out there, and people like us are there to help them, then the future can only get better for all of us."


	17. Chapter 17

_Castles they might crumble_  
_Dreams may not come true_  
_But you are never all alone_  
_Because I will always_  
_Always love you_  
~ **In My Arms by Plumb**

"Can I get you anything else?" asked Throttle, as he took the tray holding the remains of Tam's breakfast.

"I'm fine," she said, smiling as she settled back against the pillows.

"You sure?" He sat on the edge of the mattress and brushed her hair back from her face. "I could run and get you more chocolate--or cheese. Or hey, how about both: chocolate doughnuts filled with cream cheese."

Tamerin chuckled and shook her head. "I'm fine," she repeated, "although I _could_ use some air."

"No idea what you mean," said Throttle innocently, before peppering her face with kisses.

She chuckled again and wiggled down under the covers. Her belly, which Throttle had a hard time imagining getting any bigger, was round and visible through the blanket. Eleven months now, he thought, scarcely able to believe it as he placed his hand on her bulging middle. Their little girl's time of stillness had actually passed by quicker than it usually did, and he'd gotten to enjoy close to three months of almost non-stop kicking and wiggling around. Though Tam had been a little less excited about it once all that thrashing started keeping her up at night, he remembered with a grin.

The little one seemed to have tired herself out for now, as she'd been pretty quiet for the last few days. Throttle waited for several minutes, but didn't feel so much as a half-hearted twitch, so he pressed a kiss to her temporary home before sitting back. "You feel like reading," the tan mouse commented.

"I'm thinking about it," said Tam, with a tired smile.

"C'mon," he coaxed, pulling the covers back, "I'll carry you."

"I can still walk, you know," she said wryly, though she didn't argue as he picked her up and carried her to the den. He sat her on the futon sofa and handed his mate her data pad before kicking back on the nearby chair and grabbing a magazine. It'd been a slow morning so far and he was content to relax before heading to work. Tam was on maternity leave--at Charley's insistence--but she got bored sitting around at home and usually dropped in to say hi sometime during the day, or went out to see Ash. Or sometimes she determinedly went all the way to Slingshot's and hung out in the arcade for a few hours.

"Y'know, if you're going to keep being stubborn at this stage, maybe we should switch bikes for now," he suggested casually. "The ol' girl will make sure you don't lose your balance."

"I'll be fine," Tamerin said crisply. "And I'm not stubborn."

Throttle sniggered for a minute. "Whatever you say, dear."

He continued to flip through the bike magazine for a while, the crinkle of the pages mingling with the quiet beeps coming from Tamerin's data pad as she scrolled through the Imeeran novel she'd been reading. The beeps paused when she reached a new page and resumed when she digitally flipped to the next one, so when they went quiet again he didn't think anything of it. Not until he felt a quaver of something pass through their bond. Something that made him drop his magazine and look up in alarm.

"Are you okay?"

Tamerin had her eyes closed and one hand pressed to her belly. Her grip had turned limp and her data pad slipped from her fingers. "I don't know," she murmured, voice faint. "I feel funny."

"Funny how?" Throttle asked anxiously, as he hurried over and took her hand. "Like 'ha-ha' funny or 'weird' funny?"

He sure hoped she wasn't in any pain. It was hard to say for certain; that odd something still quavering in their bond didn't give him much to go on, other than she felt uneasy, and weak all of a sudden. Her hand cupped her belly tighter. "Like 'I think it's time' funny."

For a second Throttle looked blankly at her--and then it hit him, so hard he was pretty sure his stomach dropped out and his heart stopped. "Time?" he squeaked.

Wait, he knew this. 'Time' meant 'time to go to the hospital.' He knew what to do. "Hospital," he mumbled out loud, as he bolted up and started running for the door. "Gotta get to the hospital. I got this."

He almost made it out to his bike before he realized he'd forgotten something. Grinning sheepishly, he ran back to the den. "Gotta get the mother of my child to the hospital," he corrected. "I definitely got this."

During his brief absence Tamerin had slumped down on the sofa, one hand pressed over her eyes. "Just give me a minute," she whispered. "I-I'm so dizzy..."

She didn't look right either, Throttle noted with a frown. Her face was suddenly drawn, and...had she gone pale? It was hard to tell. "Come on," he said gently, as he took her hands and helped her ease up from the sofa. "I can carry you outside."

Tamerin was barely on her feet when she wobbled and her knees buckled; he scarcely caught her in time to lower her carefully to the rug. He started to adjust his hold, ready to lift her and carry her as promised, but the snow-skinned Imeeran shook her head, emotions pleading. "Not yet. I'm still so dizzy--just let me lie here until my head stops spinning..."

The tan mouse waited anxiously for several minutes, holding her hand and petting it, but the feeling of uncertainty about moving didn't leave her. Throttle's gaze kept shifting to the middle she was clutching so protectively. "Are you in any pain?" he ventured.

She shook her head. "No--not yet. It's just pressure. A lot of pressure."

She didn't say 'more pressure than I think there should be,' but he felt it in her just the same. Throttle continued to hold her hand, though his eyes went unfocused as he started going over his options. Taking her to the hospital on his bike was obviously out, but there were other vehicles. He could ask one of their friends for help--or just ask the hospital to send something over directly.

He focused on Tamerin again and smoothed her hair off her face. "You want me to call someone?" he asked in a soft voice.

"Dee," was her faint response.

Even better. If the little doc wasn't available to transport over here, they could transport over there--no tense rides necessary. He quickly got up and went to the bedroom to grab his communicator...only when he opened the nightstand drawer, it wasn't there. "Great--where'd it go?" he muttered aloud as he started rummaging.

He couldn't remember where he'd had it last. And why had he decided not to just keep it with him again? Frustration and worry mounting, he dumped the drawer out before hurrying around the bed and doing the same with Tam's, but there was no sign of her communicator either. He knew she wasn't wearing it today, so he just about turned their bedroom upside-down before he gave up and rushed back to his mate's side. While he was gone he'd felt her own worry growing rapidly, and when he got back to her she had turned herself around. She was sitting partway up now, her back propped against the side of the sofa. Both hands clutched her belly and she was breathing shallowly.

Trying not to let his alarm get out of control, Throttle knelt beside her. "Does it hurt now?"

Her forehead lined. "A-a little," she breathed. "It's mostly pressure--there's so much pressure..."

Closing her eyes again, she pulled in a breath and released it slowly. "I couldn't find either of our communicators," Throttle reported, though she had probably figured that out already. "I'm going to go call the hospital."

"Wait," Tamerin pleaded, as he started to stand again. "Before you run off, will you check? I can't."

"Check?"

She nodded dully and pointed to a spot lower than her belly. "Oh. Right."

Her mate wasn't sure what he was going to do if there was actually something to see, but he did as he was told and eased up the hem of her nightgown. When he got it to her knees he discovered that she hadn't bothered putting anything on underneath today. "Too much work," she mumbled in response to his unspoken question.

Throttle eased her nightgown a little higher before taking a peek between her knees. At least, he'd planned to only take a peek. But what met his eyes had him mutely staring for a moment. "Um..."

Tamerin's worry spiked. "What?" she asked, voice rising.

His own worry was mounting in a hurry--and he was pretty sure if he didn't reign it in it was going to morph into panic. "I, um, think that even if we call the hospital this very second they're not going to get here before we have to deal with this ourselves."

" _What_?" his mate repeated. "Why, what is it?"

"It's, um..."

"Is it a head?" she pressed sharply.

"I think so. Yes."

A bubble of panic rose up inside her, which made _him_ start to lose his cool too. Heart pounding so hard it echoed in his ears, Throttle started to get up again. "I'll go--"

"No!" Tamerin cried, grabbing his hand and stopping him. "Please, don't leave me alone."

Throttle was ready to run to the phone and start yelling for help at anyone who'd listen...but the one he loved was pleading with him to stay--pleading with her voice, her heart, her eyes. He stayed. "How much is showing?" she faltered, her grip on his hand tightening. "Is it a little or a lot?"

He looked again and couldn't be sure if anything had changed from a moment ago or if it was just his imagination. "It looks like a lot," he said slowly, trying not to panic her--or himself.

"Do I need to start pushing? Is it that much?"

He couldn't be sure of that, but to him it looked like their little daughter was trying to come into the world whether Tam pushed or not. "I think so," he said again.

For a second she felt terrified, and he with her. This moment was a big first for both of them--she'd never given birth herself and he'd never watched anyone do it--and would've been a scary unknown by itself, but knowing there could be complications they weren't prepared for, and that they were here alone...

Throttle took both her hands and held them tight. "I won't leave you."

They weren't prepared--they didn't have so much as a towel--but if this was the way this was going to happen, then they'd deal with it as it happened, together. With this resolve came a sudden wave of calm; he smiled softly and kissed his mate's cheek. "I love you."

Her eyes turned misty as she smiled back. "I know. Me too."

She squeezed his hands--and then, to his surprise, pushed them away. "It's really starting to hurt," she said, face lining as she braced herself. Her heels dug into the floor. "I'm going to start pushing now."

Throttle's heart turned over, but he nodded. "Okay."

He started to reach for her hands again, wanting to help her steel herself for the effort, but she pushed them away again. "You need to catch."

'Oh, that's right,' he wanted to say, but his throat had suddenly grown too tight. Heart hammering again, he scooted around her legs and guided his shaking hands into what he hoped was the right position. He hoped that his cupped, unsteady hands were enough.

Before he had a chance to think twice about it, Tamerin had sucked in a huge gulp of air and started pushing. There was already a head showing, and he'd heard that female Imeeran muscles got the job done quicker than most, but it still happened faster than he thought it would. Before he fully processed everything, what she'd been carrying inside her for all these months was pushed out into the world and into his waiting hands.

They'd planned for this day for so long, yet it'd come sooner than they thought and so unexpectedly, and for a moment he was dumbstruck. This had all happened so fast and not at all the way either of them had pictured. Was it really happening? Was what he was holding really real?

Over the last eleven months he'd pictured so many things, some of them horrible, some of them beautiful. But none of them were anything close to what reality proved to be. He mutely took in the moist, glossy white fur, the chubby paw-like hands and feet. The tiny fingers tipped with even tinier claws. His gaze traveled over a round middle, short arms and legs, up to a round face, muzzle, and ears. He brought his fingertips up to brush a tiny black nose, and as he cradled the little fidgeting being his other hand felt the stub of a tail.

Tam was still resting back against the sofa and panting for breath, but Throttle could tell by how focused she was on the two of them that she was recovering rapidly. He wasn't looking at her, but he sensed her eagerness, her want to better see what he was holding. "What is it?" she asked, voice stronger now.

"It's..."

No, he silently scolded himself, not 'it'. She. She was a beautiful baby girl. "She's fine. She's..."

She was still fidgeting in the arms he held her with, making quiet baby noises and fussing gently but not quite crying. He again took in the shape of her head, her ears, the largeness of her eyes. Eyes that slowly opened and looked at him. Eyes that were identical to her mother's, down to the shade of abalone blue and the black rings around the irises. Throttle's own eyes clouded with tears even as laughter bubbled out of him.

"What is it?" Tamerin asked again, puzzled joy in her voice. She didn't know what to make of his reaction, but since it was the last one she'd been expecting, she was taking it as a good sign. "What's so funny? Why are you laughing?"

"Because," Throttle said, with another laugh and a sniffle. "My cute little snow bunny just gave birth to a polar bear."

Tamerin gave a laugh of her own in response, not quite believing him, but he scooted closer and carefully placed their newborn baby girl in her arms. His mate went quiet for a few minutes, studying the fidgeting creature the same way he just did. She delicately traced the round muzzle, the little black nose, the small, perfectly round ears. 'Polar' was a bit of an exaggeration, but she was definitely white and bear-like.

The little one stopped fussing and cuddled against her breastbone, instinctively sensing her mother and seeking out the safety her strong form offered. Her little face nestled in the hollow of Tam's throat with a sound almost like a purr. Holding her close, the motherly connection Tamerin felt was radiating from her. "She's not quite what I was expecting, but..."

"But she's still perfect," Throttle finished, drawing his hand over their daughter's furry head.

She was content to drift off to sleep after the strenuous act of being born, and didn't open her eyes again until after her parents had cleaned her up, wrapped her in a blanket and moved to the bedroom. By the time her big blue eyes blinked back open Tam was snuggled comfortably in bed with her, and Throttle had finally found his communicator and contacted Dee. Since the birth had gone quickly and easily and the baby seemed healthy and strong, she planned to drop by with enough equipment for a small exam for now. They could teleport to the hospital for something more thorough later.

She was definitely strong; Throttle was sure of it. She was stocky and solid to hold, and when her tiny fingers closed around one of his own as he touched her hand, her grip was firm.

Her large eyes watched her parents with clear trust. Heart bursting with love, Throttle tightened his arm around his mate as he gazed at the child they'd made together. "What are we going to call her?" he asked.

They'd talked a little about it in recent months but hadn't wanted to make any concrete decision until after their baby was born. Tamerin's smile was gentle as she stroked their daughter's plump cheek. "I think she looks like a Thea. Don't you?"

Smiling in return, the tan mouse held her just a little closer. "Works for me."

Tamerin watched their new baby quietly for several minutes, then lifted her head and looked in his eyes. "It's been quite a year," she noted, sounding as tired and relieved as she felt. "But we don't need to worry anymore. I think everything's going to be okay now."

Throttle kissed her cheek before resting his hand on Thea's head, softly caressing one of her small ears. "Everything's going to be better than okay. I'm sure of it."

* * *

"That's great, thanks for calling."

"Who was that?" wondered Joy, as Saber said goodbye and closed the vidphone.

"Throttle--their baby was just born. There weren't any complications and it looks like she's strong and healthy."

Joy let out a happy sound and hugged him. "That's wonderful! I'm so happy for them."

The two of them had been playing video games together--didn't all couples do that?--but now they stood quietly in the middle of the game room, enjoying the simple pleasure of holding each other, of being close. When Joy lifted her eyes, Saber sensed what she was about to ask a second before she opened her mouth.

"Do you think that's something we'll ever go through?"

The sable hybrid shrugged. "Not likely," he murmured, stroking her hair. "I've never been tested to be sure, but my mom told me years ago that I'm probably like Ashlin."

Joy was quiet for a moment. "I'm not half rat," she said, head cuddling on his shoulder, "but the same is probably true for me, too."

Another second or two of silence passed as Saber combed his fingers through her hair before asking, casually, "Do you think, someday, that's something we'll want to make sure of?"

The pale-furred half-mouse lifted her head, her eyes bright and hopeful as they met his own. "I sure hope so, and someday soon."

Her green eyes were expectant now. Smiling softly, Saber cupped her face and caressed her cheeks with his thumbs. "I'm ready if you are. If you'll have me."

With a delighted squeal, Joy gave a hop, threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. "Is that a yes?" he teased when they broke apart for air.

She was so happy she didn't bother thinking up a retort before kissing him again. Her grip on him tightened, her hands caressing his hair, his shoulders, his face. The kiss was deep and intimate--and sensual enough to make his blood start heating. Though the excitement rising inside him didn't want to, he slowly broke away again, and when Joy tightened her hold and tried to draw closer he shook his head. "I'd like to behave for now," he said in response to her look of disappointment.

"My parents didn't behave," she pointed out.

"Mine didn't either."

"And neither did Modo and Ashlin, and they're the saintliest people we know."

"I know," said Saber, feeling embarrassed. It was hard to explain. "I just...I don't know. I want it to be special. Really special. Wedding night, champagne glasses, rose petals and silk sheets special."

"Wow. You make it sound so negative."

Saber rolled his eyes; Joy giggled and kissed his nose. "Okay," she relented, "behaving it is. You'll just have to marry me in a hurry so the wait won't be as torturous."

The sable hybrid almost rolled his eyes again. "Not all guys are like that, you know."

There was something knowing and smug in Joy's smile as she combed his hair back from his forehead. "I wasn't talking about just the physical connection."

"Oh?"

"No," she went on casually, still combing his hair, "I'm talking about that other special connection only some of us can do."

Saber caught on. She meant that mental connection mice with antennas could make, both with each other and those who didn't have them themselves. It was a connection that varied in strength and intensity depending on the skill of the mouse, and the level of emotion that existed between the two minds being bridged. When he was small his mother used to share her feelings with him, usually when he was scared about something and she wanted to soothe and reassure him, or when she just felt like showing how much she loved him. It'd been years since he experienced that connection and his memories of it were fuzzy.

"I don't think that's very risky," he pointed out. "It's only sharing emotions and memories, right?"

"Yes," she allowed, smile coy now. "But it can also reveal desires. Might turn out to be too tempting."

The rat-cross lifted an eyebrow. "That much?" he questioned doubtfully.

Smile softening, Joy cupped his face and coaxed him to lean down a little. "Let me give you a small sample--just enough for you to get an idea about what to expect along with the champagne and rose petals."

And she touched the tips of her antennas to his forehead, her green eyes drifting shut as the contact was made. Saber's own eyes widened for a moment, the feelings rushing into him stealing his breath away. He felt more than just a teasing desire; he felt happiness, and hope, and love. So, so much love. Love that had been growing quietly for all of Joy's life, and now that she had his love in return, she couldn't be more like her name if she tried.

It was a feeling so powerful it swept everything else away, until the only thing he was aware of were the feelings burning in her heart--feelings that were only for him. His own feelings rushed into her in return, their two hearts connecting as if one. When he felt that connection being taken away he fought against it, tightening the arms he hadn't realized he'd locked around her. Deepening the kiss he hadn't realized he'd been giving.

Joy finally twisted her face away and panted for breath. The abrupt severing of their mental connection as her antennas left his forehead left Saber feeling empty and disappointed. But instead of trying to push to reconnect, he slowly withdrew his arms. "I think that was enough of a sample for now," he murmured.

His future wife was flushing, but she smiled. "For now," she echoed.

* * *

It had been a long time since Throttle felt this level of peace. A peace brought on by cradling his baby girl in his arms, and knowing that she was strong inside and out--knowing that all their hopes over the last eleven months hadn't been in vain. All the worrying and uncertainties and anxious nights were gone. Now there was just peace, and the joy of being a parent.

After wrapping Thea more snugly in her blanket--the pink one Tam had knit just because--Throttle gently rocked his arms as he paced the length of the nursery. "What do you think?" he asked softly, eyes on the décor. "Your mommy did a great job, huh?"

Looking at it now, you'd never know it used to look like a typical teenager's room--a teenager with a passion for science, that is. The once dark walls were now painted a soft rose, the ceiling a creamy eggshell. Running around the perimeter of the room near the ceiling was a paper border, colored blue with an abstract image like rolling waves printed on it. The floor was covered in a plush white rug.

The furniture was white and simple. A chest of drawers currently stuffed with diapers and baby clothes; a rocking chair draped with a blanket; a padded stool; a changing table; a mini nightstand with a mini lamp that served as a nightlight; a sturdy crib, which was designed in a way that reminded him of a day bed and only had one rail that raised and lowered in the front.

There was also a new alcove at the back of the room, with a padded bench that looked kind of like a window seat without the window. The bench was decorated with plump cushions and had a lid that opened up to a large storage space inside. Right now it was full of baby supplies, but Throttle pictured it crammed with toys in a couple of years.

Having been born plump and stocky, and heavier than he anticipated, Thea was already too big for the newborn-sized _Daddy's Little Biker Girl_ onsie he'd gotten her. So, with a little help from Ashlin, it had been re-purposed into a small pillow that now graced the bench alongside the other cushions.

Smiling, Throttle rocked his baby girl again--only instead of continuing to doze quietly, Thea suddenly squirmed and let out a pitiful mewling sound. Throttle cuddled her and cooed reassuringly, but her fussing grew, and when he tickled her little nose she latched onto his finger.

"Ah," he said, understanding. "Let's go find mommy."

Tam was keeping tabs on them like only she could, and by the time he tracked her to the den sofa she'd already undressed to the waist. With a loving smile on her face, she held out her arms and accepted their hungry little girl from him; Thea squirmed some more in response and made unhappy sounds as she started rooting anxiously. She soon latched on, the unhappy sounds replaced with ones of contentment as her tiny paw-like hand kneaded the side of her mother's milk-swollen breast. Throttle watched, nose wrinkling a little, as Tam's white skin dimpled under the pressure of Thea's delicate black claws. "Does that hurt?"

His mate's motherly smile didn't change as she smoothed her hand over their daughter's fuzzy head. "A little," she allowed. "It's worth it."

It was all worth it, or so Throttle discovered during the first month of Thea's life. He gladly rolled out of bed to bring their fussing baby to her mother for a meal in the dead of night, he changed diapers with a smile, he was delighted to give her a bath for the very first time. Maybe in another few months the hectic pace would start to tire him out, but right now it all brought him nothing but happiness.

They'd conquered the odds and Thea was healthy and sound through and through. It was a thrill to go to her crib every morning and see her big, bright blue eyes open in greeting. She was too young to smile, but he was sure he saw recognition in those abalone orbs when he picked her up. It would be a long while yet before they'd know if she could sense emotions, but when he cradled her to his chest and she cuddled against him contently, he knew his overflowing love was strong enough for her to feel whether she was empathic or not.

Those first few weeks flew by, and before they knew it Thea was a month old, a year almost to the day from that fateful afternoon when Tam first found out she was carrying her. The morning Thea turned a month old, Throttle gave her a bath and carefully dried her glossy white fur, then dressed her in a pink jumper dress and a matching baby bonnet trimmed with lace.

Charley didn't expect Tam to come back to work for another month, but she still dropped by the garage frequently. Today she planned to spend a few hours there, and she was bringing Thea along for the first time. Throttle helped get the one-month-old ready for the trip, making sure she was freshly changed and the diaper bag was packed with everything she could possibly need.

When he went into the bedroom with Thea cradled in the crook of his arm and the pink-and-blue diaper bag slung over his shoulder, Tamerin started chuckling. "You're looking particularly BA today, hot shot."

"You hear that?" the tan mouse asked his bear-like daughter. "Your mommy is picking on me for being a model daddy."

Tamerin merely smiled as he pretended to pout. Her eyes trailed over him as she laced up her boots before standing. "You don't have to do everything yourself, you know."

"I don't mind," he said. "You worked hard putting her together for eleven months. Now it's my turn to work."

Her gaze and smile softened, and the feeling of her love sweeping over him was like a tender embrace. She drew closer, placed her hands on his shoulders and kissed him firmly. Throttle put his free arm around her and held her tight, and when they parted they headed out to his bike. Thanks to the ol' girl's built in sidecar, ready at the push of a button, traveling with an infant was easy and safe. After passing Thea to Tam and making sure the two of them were seated comfortably and secure, he took off for the garage.

As he was pulling to a stop outside the main door, a familiar rushing sound made the two of them look up. Even though the black craft was almost out of sight by the time they'd tracked it down with their eyes, they still waved before heading inside.

The new baby excitement was ages away from wearing off and his bros and the other mechanics greeted them cheerfully. Joy was here too, and she ran over to kiss Thea's cheek before displaying her hand to the baby's parents. "Check it out," she said, face aglow with happiness.

On her finger was a gold ring with a pink gemstone. Throttle had never seen her so happy, and both he and Tam offered their congratulations--again. Beaming, she scampered out to her bike and returned to the orphanage; Saber came strolling in a few minutes later. He was taking a few days off as he handled wedding preparations and looked a little tired this morning, but every bit as happy as his future bride.

"Your mom seems to be spending a lot of time with her birthday toy," Throttle observed, as Tam adjusted her hold on Thea and went over to chat with Charley.

The sable hybrid made a face. "I think she figures staying in the sky is the best way to avoid my dad," he said, shrugging.

"Oh? Did they have a fight?"

Throttle couldn't imagine Poison fighting with anyone, least of all his wife. He wasn't a guy who raised his voice; he intimidated people into submission with a glare and one word or less.

"Not exactly," said Saber, shrugging again. "But my dad keeps giving her this weird look, and my mom keeps saying _no_."

The tan mouse couldn't help snickering, pretty sure he knew what that weird look meant.

The two of them talked for a few minutes more, and then Saber excused himself to do some shopping. Vector watched him leave sadly, and a little longingly--because anything, even helping your best bud shop for wedding stuff, was better than staying indoors and working.

Catching the look on his son's face, Vinnie chuckled. "Go on," he told him.

Vector eagerly abandoned what he was doing and ran off. And with Tam having a little girl talk with Charley, Throttle found himself standing around with his bros. Since the arrival of a new baby in his life, quality guy time wasn't something he'd had a whole lot of recently.

As if sensing what he was thinking, Modo handed him a cold bottle of root beer with a grin. "Life's been pretty crazy lately, huh?" he observed.

"Yes," Throttle allowed, "but when isn't it?"

Constant flow and change was the very nature of life. Even after all that had happened, he knew there was plenty more waiting to happen in the very near future. There would be more births, more weddings, more losses, and more tears and joy and laughter. No matter what, life never stopped moving.

_~Fin~_


End file.
